


This is the Start of Something Beautiful

by fookinglousers



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Complicated Relationships, Drinking, Eventual Smut, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mpreg, One Direction more like One Conception, One Night Stands, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Phone Sex, very light, why isn't that a tag??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-08 21:20:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 25,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7773781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fookinglousers/pseuds/fookinglousers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He sucks in a breath as he grabs the first one, says a silent prayer, and flips it over. </p><p>One small little smiley face greets him and his heart drops into his stomach. With tears welling in his eyes, he turns over the next one. Two pink lines confirm what he already knew. The last one simply says pregnant and he's just-he's fucked. He's so fucked. These three tests, with what would be such happy results for someone else, are sending him into a whirlwind of absolute panic."</p><p>Or, the one where one night stands aren't always as simple as they seem, best friends are the glue that holds everything together and hormones are hell on everyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Right, so. Mpreg. I know, I know. But seriously, Harry deserves all the babies, all the time. I couldn't help it. Babies + Harry + Louis = Warm, fuzzy feelings and emotional roller coasters I'd rather not admit to. 
> 
> ANYWAY, I'm thinking this is going to be three chapters, since I'm cramming so much into them. I'm already working on chapter two, so expect that up within the next two weeks. 
> 
> As usual, I don't own One Direction, though I'd like to, and this is all fiction, etc. This hasn't been edited, so if you see any mistakes, please feel free to let me know. Happy reading! 
> 
> (Title is from This by Ed Sheeran)

**PART I**

_“He had the vague sense of standing on a threshold, the crossing of which would change everything.”_  
_― Kate Morton_

 

Harry is maybe, just a bit drunk. Like, possibly a lot drunk. More than he intended to get. But, like, it's his first week back at Uni! There was no way he couldn't _not_ get completely plastered at a strangers house off campus with a bunch of other students, _no way_. So he's here now, having the time of his life with Niall, Zayn and Liam by his side as they dance to Taylor Swift. He is, most definitely, shaking it off. He loves his boys, especially now. And even more so Liam for agreeing to come out tonight and let loose. He was adamant about already starting his studies, even though they were only one week in, but Niall and Harry convinced him to come to the party. He's even drunk, possibly more so than Harry is, which is saying something for Liam. Niall, on the other hand, can drink like a fish. It takes at least a whole bottle of vodka and then some to get the Irishman loosened up. But he's well on his way, downing another cup of some mixed concoction he'd made in the kitchen. 

Harry knows they're all screwed, probably going to have to stay the night in this random house, but he can't be arsed to care. He's having too much fun and he's so alive right now. As the song comes to an end, he excuses himself to go get yet another drink, laughing as he goes along. Everyone here is so friendly, partly due to the alcohol, but mostly because they know Harry. He's been friendly with almost everyone since his first day of freshman year and he's a junior now. Which is even more reason to celebrate because he's almost done! 

He slides into the kitchen, slipping past a couple who seems to have forgotten they're in public. Harry grins as he pours some more into his red cup, chugging half of it down before topping himself off again. His body is thrumming with the bass of the music blasting from the den and the copious amounts of alcohol in his body. He leans against the counter, closing his eyes, grin still in place. It's loud, but it's become muffled by now. He vows, in his very drunken state, to go to more parties this year. Last year, he'd buckled down more because of Liam and his guilt trips about his education. Niall had even stopped going to so many for awhile. But now, with only this year and next left to party before he's an official adult with a degree, he makes a promise to himself to live a little more. He deserves to enjoy himself. 

"Are you sleeping?" Comes a voice from somewhere near Harry. He isn't sure if he's imagined it or not, so he pops one eye open and tries to focus his vision. 

There, standing in front of him, is the most beautiful person Harry's ever seen. Actually, there may be two of him. He opens his other eye to make sure, and yeah, there's just one of him. Harry's grin widens at the pretty boy with _blueblueblue_ eyes. He props his elbow on the counter behind him, leaning even further back. Sexy, he can do sexy. 

"Well, hello there," He slurs, trying his best to be charming. If the way the stranger smiles is any indication, it's working. "Come here often?" 

The boy lets out a delighted chuckle, shaking his head. His eyes are a bit glazed over, like he, too, has had a bit much to drink. "I live here, actually." 

Harry vaguely recalls when they'd arrived, how he'd complimented the home. Something about old Victorian structures or summat, he thinks. He isn't sure anymore. 

"'S a nice house you've got here, sir," He giggles, taking a sip of his drink. 

The stranger smiles even bigger, laughing again at Harry. God, his mum always told him he was a charmer. She'd be proud, he thinks. 

"Thanks, mate," The guy says, pouring his own drink and moving around Harry slowly. Harry takes the time to appreciate his bum, and it's a very, very nice bum. 

"You've a nice bum," He says, watching as the guy almost spits his drink from laughing. 

He swipes his mouth with the back of his hand, sending Harry a wink. "Cheeky." 

"Literally," Harry grins, sending his own wink. He ends up blinking, but. It's the effort that counts. The stranger slides up next to him, drink in hand, and here Harry can really appreciate his looks. He's tan, his brown hair falling over his forehead and he's got little crinkles by his crescent shaped eyes. He's very cute and Harry wants to see him naked soon. "You're cute." 

"You're not so bad yourself, Curly." The guy says, obviously pleased with the compliment if the blush on his cheeks says anything. Then, that could be from the alcohol. Harry would like to think it's because of him. 

Thinking fast, because he doesn't want this guy to slip through his fingers, he blurts, "D'you wanna go somewhere quiet?" He can feel his cheeks heat up as the stranger raises a brow, smirk on his pink lips. He nods nonetheless and grabs Harry's hand, which sends tingles up his arm and pulls him along through the crowd. Harry searches the room for any sign of the boys to let them know where he's going, but he doesn't have any luck, and they're making their way down a hallway before he can blink. 

Anticipation crawls through his veins and he feels a little lightheaded when the man stops in front of a door, opening it and revealing a dark bedroom. Now, let it be known that Harry isn't exactly a virgin, not by a long shot. But he didn't usually make it a habit to hook up with random men while drunk. But this random man, he was something. With his smooth skin and bright smile, light laughs and soft touches. He made Harry feel something. What, Harry isn't quite sure. But it was something. With alcohol still clouding his mind, he followed the boy to the bed and sat down next to him, giving a shy smile. It was obvious his cocky demeanor only went so far, even with alcohol.

The boy smiled back, and Harry should really figure out his name, before saying, "Y'know, we don't have to do anything, right? Like, I'm okay with just sitting here and getting to know you all night. If that's what you want, I'm okay with it." He places a reassuring hand on Harry's thigh and that really just does it for him, as he leans in and kisses him. 

He tastes like vodka and sunshine and Harry takes everything he can get, crawling onto his lap and raking his hands through his soft brown hair. The boy smiles into it, gripping Harry's hips and pulling him closer. 

When they finally pull back, the boy asks, slightly dazed, "What do you want?" His thumb is making circles on Harry's hip where his shirt has ridden up, and it feels much more intimate than it should given the circumstance. 

With the bass still thudding from downstairs and the mixed drinks he had still present in his mind, Harry says with a wide smile, "You. Right now." And then, "Please." 

**-**

 

With a groan, Harry opens his eyes. The sun is too bright and his head is absolutely pounding. The first thing he realizes on this particular morning is that he's naked. Completely starkers, with only a gray sheet covering his lower half. The second thing he notices is that he is definitely not in his own room. And, he's pretty sure he's had sex. Like, possibly multiple times judging by the way his bum is aching. With his brows furrowed he glances around. The walls are a nice shade of dark blue, navy maybe, and there are various posters hanging on them. The white curtains are drawn back, revealing the morning, or so he assumes, sun. The sheets he's got on are at least one thousand thread count and yeah, this is definitely not his room. Part of him doesn't want to leave because it's so nice in here, aside from the clothes strewn on the dark wooden floor, making it a maze of sorts. He has the urge to clean, leaving it better than he found it. Partially because he isn't sure if he'd actually made that mess himself or not. But he also wants to get out of there as quickly as possible; get his walk of shame over with and get to work before he's late. He decides on the latter, pushing the sheets off of himself, regretfully, and standing up.

His head pounds even harder as he searches for his clothes, finally finding them after what feels like some sort of scavenger hunt. He takes note of some of the posters on the walls, some being of bands, others of movies and musicals. He wonders what this person is like and if he'd have liked them sober, too. Or at least, liked them enough to sleep with them sober. Either way, they've got good taste, so he silently commends them on that. After dressing, he grabs his now dead phone and keys from the nightstand by the bed and runs a hand through his hair, hoping he doesn't look as bad as he feels. 

The house is silent as he makes his way through, various people passed out on the couches and the floor. He seems to be the only one awake, and he's thankful for that. He closes the door quietly and begins his way to work, thanking any higher power that this place was closer to town than he thought. 

 

-

 

After a long shift, Harry steps into his shared flat with Niall.  

Niall is already home, with Liam sat on the couch next to him, both of them yielding controllers. He pauses his game though, glancing up at Harry with a look of concern. Liam follows, setting his controller down on the table and giving Harry his Disappointed Dad look.

"Where've you been, H? We've tried calling you." Liam says, the first to start in on him. 

"Yeah, multiple times since last night." Niall adds in, arms crossed. "You disappeared on us. Were you okay?"

" _Are_ you okay?" Liam asks, leaning forward as his eyes rake Harry's form for any visible signs of harm.

Harry sighs, flinging himself on the couch next to theirs and throwing an arm over his eyes. He's beyond exhausted and his hangover has peaked. If he's being honest, this is the last thing he wants to deal with. But he knows they're only questioning him so much because they care. 

With another deep sigh, he says, flatly, "I ended up sleeping there. Apparently, I got lucky last night." 

"Consensually, right?" Comes Liam's worried tone. 

"Yeah," Harry nods, squinting his eyes under his arm in thought. "I mean, I only remember bits and pieces. I don't remember his face, but I remember telling him I wanted to go somewhere quiet. And then, y'know, asking for sex." 

"Was he sober?" Asks Niall, an edge to his voice. 

Harry shakes his head. "No, no I don't think so. I remember he had a cup of something and.." Blue eyes pop into his head, but it's the only image he has of the boy. "No, he was definitely drunk. As drunk as me, I'm pretty sure." 

Liam hums, obviously somewhat sated knowing Harry wasn't taken advantage of. "What's the last thing you remember?" 

Harry thinks for a second and then lets out a bark of laughter. He sits up, finally looking at his friends who have clear expressions of confusion on their faces. He points at them both and laughs, "You kissed! Oh my god, you kissed! And it's the last thing I remember!" He falls back onto the couch laughing, tears streaming from his eyes. 

"Christ," Mutters Niall, shaking his head. 

Liam, on the other hand, flushes with embarrassment and puts his head in his hands. "I can't believe you remember that." 

 

-

 

Three weeks later, Harry is on his way to the coffee shop on the corner of campus. His sunglasses are doing little to shade his eyes from the harsh light of the morning sun, giving him a headache. He woke up feeling a bit under the weather this morning and he's hoping some tea and a scone will help before class. The door chimes when he enters and he pushes the glasses up into his curls, waving hello to the barista behind the counter. She smiles politely at him as he makes his way to her.

"Just a green tea and a scone please." He orders, giving a dimpled grin as he pays.

The barista blushes, handing him his change before she begins getting his order together. He checks his phone, seeing he's only got twenty minutes until class, and hurriedly thanks the woman before spinning around to rush out the door. But, when he turns, he knocks into someone who's waiting behind him, causing them to spill the cup of coffee they've got in their hand.

"Shit," Harry mumbles, reaching for some napkins and crouching down to clean up the mess. "I'm so sorry!"

"Hey," The person says lightly, bending down in front of Harry. Harry peers up from the floor, where he seems to be making a bigger mess. The first thing he sees is the guy's eyes. They're this beautiful shade of blue, drawing Harry in. They're almost familiar in a way that Harry can't quite place. The next thing he notices is the gentle, easy smile he's got. He reaches out, taking the napkins from Harry's hand. "I've got it."

Fumbling for words, Harry stutters, "O-Oh, are you, are you sure? I mean, I made the mess."

Still smiling, the stranger shrugs. "It happens. It wasn't what I ordered anyway."

Harry finds himself grinning back. "I'm still sorry, either way." He stands up, grabbing his order off of the counter where he'd set it to clean up, and smiling down at the guy again. "It was nice meeting you. Again, sorry about the coffee. If I ever run into you again, hopefully not literally, I'll buy you a new one."

The stranger stands, too, his brows furrowed. "We've met before-"

But Harry's already halfway out the door, only sending him a wave over his shoulder before rushing off to class.  He's five minutes late, but he thinks it was worth it. 

 

-

 

"Harry, I really think you should-" 

"No, Liam. I'm not going to the doctor." Harry interrupts, his voice raspy as he stands up from the floor and flushes the toilet. "'M fine. It's just a bug." 

Liam, propped up against the door, watches on with concern as Harry begins brushing his teeth. This was the fifth day in a row that he'd woken up sick. But after a few crackers and some tea, he was usually fine. He still went to work, and only had to sit down a few times because of lightheadedness. He hadn't missed a day of school either. He was fine. 

Sighing, Liam says, "I just think that you need to get checked out. You've been ill for a few weeks now. It must be more than a bug." 

Harry glances at him in the mirror, washing his toothbrush. "Liam, I haven't thrown up very much. And I'm stressed, anyway. That's probably it." 

"Haz, it's been three weeks since you first started saying you weren't feeling well. You're tired all the time, you're moody, you're getting sick and your headaches are getting worse." Liam listed, shaking his head. "You need to find out what's wrong." 

Brushing past him, Harry tosses over his shoulder, "It's stress, Liam." 

"What's stress, Liam?" Niall asks from his spot on the couch, a plate in his hand as he munches on his breakfast. The sight makes Harry's stomach turn. He opts to sit furthest from Niall, lest he ruin his breakfast by throwing up on it. 

"Harry thinks he's fine, that he doesn't need to go see a doctor." Liam fills him in, sitting down between Niall and Harry. 

Niall hums, leaning forward so he can assess Harry's state. "You do look a bit pale," He states, shoving another forkfull of eggs into his mouth. Harry almost gags. 

"I'm fine." Harry mumbles, turning his attention to the telly. 

He drowns out his friends' conversation as he watches, completely ignoring them. His eyelids get heavy after awhile, his head drooping. The next time he opens his eyes, both Niall and Liam are staring at him, twin expressions of concern across their faces. He rubs his eyes, scrunching up his face. 

"What?" He mutters, narrowing his eyes at them. 

Both of them glance at each other before back at him. Niall is the first to speak. 

"Haz, listen. We're gonna say something, and you're not going to like it, but we need you to listen." 

Panic rises in his chest, his thoughts swirling. "Is everything okay?" 

Liam nods, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Everything's fine, H. Just-" He glances over at Niall again, then back at Harry. "Haz, we..." 

"Are you pregnant?" Niall blurts, earning a scowl from Liam. 

Harry almost chokes at the question, eyes wide as he looks between the pair. "Are you being serious?" 

Before he can stop himself, he's laughing. Loudly. The question is absurd. Of course he isn't. He'd know. Everyone always seems to know when they're pregnant. And besides, Harry hasn't had sex since the party. Which was like, almost three months ago. Like, nine weeks ago. And Harry started feeling ill about...

"Wait." He mumbles, sitting up straight. He's trying to do the math, but his head is swimming. There's no way. 

"Harry, just calm down." Niall murmurs, leaning forward, reaching a hand out to him. Liam is sitting there, next to Niall, panic across his features as if he has no idea what to do or say in this very moment. 

Harry just brushes Niall's touch off, standing from the couch and running a hand through his hair. "No," He says simply, shaking his head. "Nope. There's no way." He finally looks at his friends, head still shaking. "I'd know. And I know that I'm not."

"Harry-" Liam starts, finally finding his voice. 

"No, Liam." His voice is firm, final. "It's ridiculous. I'm leaving." 

Niall sighs, giving a resigned shrug to Liam. "Where are you goin'?" 

"Out." He responds shortly, grabbing his jacket. He sends them a curt nod before leaving, the chill of the crisp winter air hitting his body as he steps out of their flat. He knows his friends are just looking out for him, keeping his best interest at heart. He shouldn't have been so short with them, but he couldn't help it. They were being ridiculous! He isn't pregnant. 

He scoffs just thinking about it, replaying the whole situation over in his head as he walks. His friends, he loves them, he does. But they can be complete idiots sometimes. 

He makes a mental note to call and make an appointment with his doctor tomorrow, figure out what he's got, prove them wrong. It wouldn't be the first time Harry's had to set them straight; certainly won't be the last. 

-

 

Harry doesn't like to brag. He really doesn't. But, that being said, he knows he's smart. He's intelligent and he knows that. He's even got his GCSEs to prove that and soon a degree to back the statement up. He prides himself on his intelligence and knowledge.  He works hard for it. But here, now, slumped down in front of a public campus toilet in the bathroom of the science center, he thinks that for once in his life, his brain has failed him. He retches into the bowl again, tears streaking his face, stomach searing. He wonders if he's done something in the past and this is his karmic payback. Maybe the universe is trying to tell him something, like maybe he shouldn't have been so goddamn drunk at that party. He stands up on unsteady legs, flushing the toilet. When he steps out, another student is washing his hands, clearly grimacing at Harry through the mirror. Truth be told, Harry can't he arsed to care. He just washes his own hands, splashing some water onto his face. 

On his way out of the building, he buys a water and chugs half of it. 

The weather outside is cold, but his body is hot. He knows he looks like shit if the sympathetic stares he keeps getting are any implication. He doesn't let his mind work at all as he walks, just moving his feet, one in front of the other robotically. He can't think. Because if he thinks, he'll know, and if he _knows_ -

Suddenly, his shoulder collides with someone else's, knocking him back a few steps. _Ow._ Rubbing his shoulder, he glances up. 

"Hey," Of course it's the cute guy from the coffee shop. Because if the universe wasn't laughing enough already, they'd need to throw this in his face too. Dangling this beautiful boy in front of him while he knows he can't have him is just plain _cruel_. He's smiling at Harry, but there's a question in his eyes and Harry realizes that he hasn't said anything back, which is completely rude. 

He raises a hand and give a shy wave, his own grin adorning his face. "Hi," He breathes. 

The boy tilts his head a bit, which is so cute Harry almost has to look away. "You look a bit ill. Are you alright?" There's a slight pout on his lips, as though the thought of Harry being sick makes him upset. 

Harry nods, glancing towards his car before back at the boy. He really needs to go. He needs to get his life sorted. "Yeah, 'm just a bit under the weather is all." He shrugs, shuffling his feet. "Allergies." _Lies._

The stranger makes a sympathetic sound in the back of his throat, stepping closer. "'M sorry. 'Ve got tea at my place if you ever need someone to take care of you?" 

Harry feels his lips turn up on their own accord, the thought of a cute boy taking care of him making him warm inside. "If I knew you better, maybe." He chuckles, not missing the way the boy's brows furrow, almost like he's confused. "Speaking of, we've still got a raincheck on that coffee. It'll have to be another day, unfortunately. I've gotta get going." He motions towards the general direction of his car awkwardly. 

"Right," The boy drawls out, brows still furrowed. Harry can't help but feel like he's missing something here, like the boy is clued in on something he isn't. 

Before he can think too much about it, he's stepping away, sending him another wave before turning and walking the rest of the way to his car. When he slips inside, he glances up and sees that the boy is gone. 

It's only then he realizes he hasn't gotten his name.

- 

 

Bursting through the door of Zayn and Liam's dorm and startling Niall and Liam, who are sat on the couch, Harry blurts out, "Do you guys really think I'm pregnant?" 

With wide eyes, the two glance at each other before looking back at Harry again, who's still standing in the doorway, breathing labored, letting the cold air in. He'd run from his car up the two flights of stairs to their flat, his heart racing. After another bout of nausea, caused by the smell of fish, he'd hurled into a garbage bin in the middle of town. All he wanted was a sandwich for lunch, and he hadn't even gotten that. He was mortified by the people staring in almost horror as he threw up what little he could hold down for breakfast. That incident brought him here, two days after the accusations his friends had made. 

"Harry, wha-" Niall starts, just now finding his voice from Harry's abrupt entrance. 

Before he can finish his thought, Zayn's wandering out of the kitchen, beer in hand. His face is contorted into a mix between shock and concern, his dark eyes finding Harry from across the room. " _Pregnant?_ " 

There's no malice in his tone, no trace of judgement at all, because this is Zayn and Zayn is anything _but_ judgmental and harsh. But, for some ungodly reason, Harry starts crying. Right there, in the doorway of his mate's dorm, he begins sobbing uncontrollably. 

Before he can even process this, his friends are on him. Three sets of arms wrap around him, someone closes the door, Zayn's beer is forgotten and they're moving him to the couch before he can even blink. Whispers of comfort and solace are ringing through his ears as they all sit down with him; Niall and Zayn on each side of him, Liam sat on the coffee table in front of him. He's a complete mess right now and he doesn't even know why. He could chalk it up to stress, he knows. Stress about school, about his family, about being sick and about worrying _why_ he's sick. He's just so goddamn stressed lately and it's finally taking a toll. 

When he finally manages to calm down, he pulls in a breath and breathes out, "I-I think, maybe, maybe you're right." He doesn't dare look at any of them, only at his hands in his lap. 

Liam reaches up and wipes a stray tear from his cheek before placing his hand over Harry's. When Harry chances a glance up at him, his brown eyes are filled to the brim with understanding. "H, you know we love you right?" Harry nods meekly. Zayn's hand squeezes his shoulder. "Then you should know that we'd never, _ever_ leave your side. Even if this happens to be true, if this is real, we'll still be here. We'll always be here, Harry. So you think you're pregnant? Fine, we'll figure this out together, the four of us. We'll sort it out, okay?" 

Harry nods again, can already feel more tears building up. "But, _god_. How could I have been so- _so fucking stupid?_ " He scowls at himself, shaking his head. "How could I have-"

" _Harry_ ," Niall cuts him off, voice hard. "Stop. Just stop. These things happen, yeah? They happen everyday. Even to people like you, who are so fucking smart." He grabs Harry's chin, tilting his face so that he has to look at him. Harry meets his blue eyes, seeing the fire behind them. "You are not stupid. This could have happened to any of us." 

"He's right," Zayn pipes up from Harry's other side, squeezing his shoulder again. "And there's _nothing_ you could ever do that would make us love you any less. Yes, this is a big deal. Monumental, even. But, we'll take it in stride. We'll figure it out, Harry. All of us. We love you no matter what. And whatever you decide to do, we'll back you, always." 

The other two nod in agreement and Harry swears he's never felt so understood and loved than he does right now. 

"We need a test." Niall puts in, still glued to Harry's side and Harry's got a feeling he'll stay that way. He doesn't mind it. 

Liam nods, standing up from the table and making his way to the door. "On it. Be back in ten." 

The door closes behind him and Harry lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He scrubs a hand down his face, letting his shoulders sag. He starts thinking about what will happen if it turns out he is carrying a baby. How his mum will feel, his sister and dad and Robin. How this will affect his plans for his future, university and all of the schoolwork. The fact that he has no fucking clue who the father is. He's made such a mess of his life in just one night, and he hadn't even realized it. The boys are quiet next to him, letting him think and process as they wait for Liam to arrive with the tests. These small, plastic sticks that will literally define his future with just one pink line. 

 _We'll figure it out_ , Zayn and Liam had said. _Whatever you decide._  

And god, that's all too heavy to think about right now. He doesn't even know for sure if he's pregnant or not. Trying not to get ahead of himself, Harry attempts to think about the brighter side, the one where the tests turn out negative and he's just got the flu, or something. He hopes with everything he has in him, that that's the outcome. 

Fifteen minutes later, a cold-flushed Liam comes through the door, a plastic sack in his hand. He takes the contents out after slipping his jacket off, setting three different boxes onto the table in front of Harry. 

When Niall questions him, Liam blushes. "I wasn't sure which one to get." He shrugs, but his eyes stay on Harry and there's this fierce protectiveness hidden in them. Harry figures Liam's protective side will come out even more in these next few moments. 

Silently, Harry takes the boxes and detaches himself from Zayn and Niall. He makes his way to the bathroom alone, insisting he can do this on his own. He doesn't want anyone to see his breakdown when the results come in. With shaky hands, he opens each one and takes one test out of each box, setting them on the counter. 

When he's finished his business, he places them face down on the counter and waits with baited breath. His mind is whirling as he stares at them from across the bathroom. At the five minute mark, his phone buzzes, telling him it's time to read them. He sucks in a breath as he grabs the first one, says a silent prayer, and flips it over. 

One small little smiley face greets him and his heart drops into his stomach. With tears welling in his eyes, he turns over the next one. Two pink lines confirm what he already knew. The last one simply says pregnant and he's just-he's fucked. He's so fucked. These three tests, with what would be such happy results for someone else, are sending him into a whirlwind of absolute panic. He wipes away a few stray tears, glancing at his distraught appearance in the mirror, and grabs the tests. 

The boys are waiting for him on the couch, each with matching expressions of anxiety. Niall is the first off the couch when he sees Harry round the corner, his blonde brows furrowed. 

Zayn and Liam are right behind him, each standing a sizable distance from Harry in case he needs space. 

"Well?" Niall prompts softly, eyes darting down to the tests in Harry's hand. 

Harry just shakes his head, lifting one up for Niall to see. 

As soon as he sees the smiley face, his own face falls. "Fuck," He breathes, blue eyes boring into the test. 

Liam and Zayn stay in their spots; Zayn biting his lip and Harry swears he sees tears in his bourbon eyes. Liam scrubs a hand over his face and starts pacing around the room, the tension between them all thick. 

Harry sets the tests down on the table and watches as Zayn reaches for one, reading it for himself as though he needs more proof that this is real, this is happening. 

"H," Niall drawls his attention back to him. He looks completely lost. Harry can relate. "What-what do you want to do?" 

The other two snap their attention back to him, too. They're all waiting for an answer that Harry isn't sure he can give. His eyes trail back to the white sticks on the table, the one in Zayn's hand, and then back to his friends, who all just want the best for him. He knows they'll stand behind whatever he decides, no matter how hard it is for any of them. He loves them so much and this is so hard and so unfair. 

He sighs, willing himself not to cry again and says, "I don't know. I-I just don't." 

Liam nods, the picture of understanding, and stops his pacing. "You don't have to decide today, Harry." 

"But," Zayn pipes up, voice soft. He finally sets the test back down gently, as if he's afraid he'll break it. "Maybe soon?" 

"How far are you thinking you are?" Niall asks, crossing his arms. 

Frazzled as he is, Harry at least knows the answer to that. "Like, nine, maybe ten weeks?" 

Niall nods, furrowing his brows. "So that's like..." 

"Three months," Zayn finishes, eyes trained on Harry's stomach. 

It makes Harry self conscious, though it shouldn't. He isn't showing, he knows that. He's gained a little weight, but he's thankful it isn't obvious that he's pregnant. 

It's all a little overwhelming and his head is spinning as he goes and sits down again. The boys follow, watching him cautiously. 

"I don't even know who the father is." Harry states, staring at the tests in front of him as if they hold the answer. "And like, I don't think I could support a child, y'know? I mean, I make enough to support me, but another person? I don't think I could. And my mum, what would she think? God, she'd think I'm some kind of, like, slag or something. What about school? I'm supposed to graduate in two years. How can I do that with a baby?" He lets out a breath, shaking his head. "I can't do this." 

Everyone is quiet, soaking in this information. It's heavy, it's all so heavy, and Harry wants to throw up and cry. 

"So, are you saying...?" Niall trails off, but the question hangs in the air, clear as day. They all know what he's asking. 

"I-I don't know," Harry responds, shaking his head. It seems to be his answer to everything, now. "I just don't think I could do that, either." 

"Adoption?" Liam puts in, raising his brows. "You could do that instead." 

That would be the logical thing to do, Harry thinks. He obviously can't raise this child on his own with what he makes now, and with university. He definitely couldn't get an abortion; just the thought makes his stomach turn. Adoption is the best option for him. And yet...

He lets out a shaky, forced laugh. "I don't know! I don't know, and I'm so goddamn frustrated with myself." He throws his hands up, completely defeated. 

They all agree that he needs to think about it for a day or two, soak it in and process it before he makes his decision. 

Harry woke up this morning completely normal, thinking that everything was fine. He goes to bed knowing that there's another life inside of him, far more important than his own. 

 

-

 

It's ten thirty on a Tuesday morning and Harry is _late_ for his morning seminar. After a few days of thinking it over, he told the boys he was going to keep the baby. _His_ baby. He cried through laughter as they all hugged him tight, congratulating him finally. Zayn cried too, telling him he was so glad Harry had made this decision and that he was proud of him. It was a long day, and they'd ended it with snacks and movies, cuddled on the couch. Harry loves them. 

Now, he's rushing through campus in an attempt to get to his class. His morning sickness has staved off a little, or so he thought, but this morning he'd thrown up again. Niall had rubbed his back while he was crying into the toilet, telling him it'll all be worth it in the end. Harry hopes he's right. 

As he steps into the classroom, he quietly apologizes to the professor, making his way to an open seat. He spots one near the back and hurries over to it, excusing himself on his way as the professor continues his teachings. Once he's seated, he pulls out a notebook and pen, cursing Niall for taking his laptop again without asking. 

As he's writing down notes, someone taps his shoulder. He turns his head and sees that the boy from the coffee shop, the unfairly gorgeous boy, is sat right behind him, smiling. 

"Hey," He whispers, leaning in. His breath hits the back of Harry's neck and gives him goosebumps that he hopes aren't noticeable. "You haven't missed much, he's just droning on as usual. You can borrow my notes after class if you want." His breath is minty sweet, and Harry curses his hormones. 

Harry nods his head, glancing over his shoulder and smiling. "That'd be great, thank you." 

The stranger smiles even brighter and Harry has to remind himself to breath. "No problem." 

The seminar goes on for another fourty five minutes before they're dismissed. Harry packs up his things and leaves the classroom, seeing that the boy has waited for him outside. He flashes another smile Harry's way and Harry tamps down the butterflies in his stomach. 

Once they get outside, the boy pulls his notes out of his bag and hands them to Harry. "Here you go, all sixty minutes of pure hell right there, just for you." He winks, and Harry lets out a laugh. 

"Thank you again, really. You're a life saver." Harry stuffs the notebook into his own bag and turns his attention back to the masterpiece in front of him. "'M Harry, by the way." He sticks out a hand, dimples in full force. 

Much like the weeks before, the boy frowns at Harry's hand and back up at Harry, his brows scrunched. "I know." 

"Oh," Harry pulls back his hand, confused as ever. "Well, what's your name, then?" 

At this, the boy scoffs. Irritation is clear on his face as he crosses his arms. "Louis. You _know_ that." 

Harry scrunches up his face, take aback by his sudden change in mood. "I'm sorry, I-" 

"You really don't remember, do you?" Louis interrupts. He's like a little firecracker, Harry thinks. He doesn't dare say that out loud. 

Instead, he just shakes his head slowly, wondering what on earth he's talking about. 

Louis heaves a sigh, shaking his head in annoyance. "The party? Talking? _Shagging?_ " He huffs. "Ring any bells?" 

Oh.

" _Oh,_ " Harry lets out, his stomach suddenly sour with realization. Louis is who he slept with at that party. Louis, gorgeous, sweet Louis, is completely oblivious to the fact that Harry is now carrying his child. Fuck. They've slept together and Harry can't even fucking remember it. 

"Yeah," Louis nods, uncrossing his arms and shoving his hands into his pockets. "So, I'd say we already know each other pretty well." 

Harry can only nod in return, his mind screaming at him. He isn't sure what to say now, let alone how to approach this. 

Grasping, he asks, "Would you like to, like, have lunch?" 

A smile creeps onto Louis' face, all exasperation gone as he agrees. They walk in silence to the corner cafe where Harry first ran into Louis, something which he apologizes for once again when they walk in. Louis threatens to dump his next coffee on Harry's head if he says he's sorry one more time, so Harry shuts up after that. 

He orders a simple sandwich once they're seated, and Louis orders the same, still oblivious. Harry feels something akin to guilt, though his isn't sure why. He hadn't even known Louis was the father, so how was he supposed to tell him when he'd found out? His mind is overworking again until Louis snaps him out of it.

"So," He says with a smile, toying with a sugar packet. 

"So." Harry repeats, biting his lip. He figures he should rip it off like a bandaid, lest Louis think he's only in this for the free meal, or something. "Uh, there's actually something I need to tell you." 

Louis drops the packet, nodding for Harry to continue. With his blue eyes burning into him, Harry's even more nervous than before. 

He swallows, reminds himself that Louis deserves to know. "I, um." He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit. "I'm pregnant?" He clears his throat, willing his voice not to crack as he tacs on, "And it's yours, so." 

He watches as Louis seems to completely freeze, his eyes focused in on Harry's own. Harry fidgets, glancing down at the sugar packet between them. It's tense and silent and he wants to run. He wants to take it back, but he can't now. It's out in the open. 

Their food is brought to the table and Harry doesn't much feel like eating anymore. Louis' staring down at the table now, right above Harry's stomach, and his brows are furrowed like he's trying to decode something. Harry briefly wonders if Louis thinks he's lying. 

After another five minutes of silence, Harry can't take it any longer. He pushes his plate away gently and stands up, placing a tenner on the table. Louis watches him, seemingly unable to find words. 

Harry clears his throat once again and pulls a card from his wallet, placing it in front of Louis, who stares down at it. "My first appointment is on Friday at three o'clock at this place. Feel free to come, if you'd like. If not, I understand. Take your time processing it. I know it's a lot, trust me." He lets out a dry chuckle, and Louis' eyes land on him again. "Anyway, um. I'm keeping it, so there's that." He shrugs, hiking his bag up his shoulder as he takes a step away from the table. "I'll see you around, Louis." 

With that, he leaves. He hopes Louis will come around, but if not, he's always got his boys. There's enough love for his baby already, he knows. They'll be alright. 

 

-

 

When Friday rolls around, Harry's a nervous wreck. Liam has apparently taken it upon himself to download an app that tells him information about the baby as Harry's pregnancy progresses. Before Harry's appointment, he comes by the flat with Zayn in tow, smiles all around. 

They're all sat around the living room, snacks in hand as Zayn sets up a game of FIFA. 

"It's the size of a fig," Liam spouts of proudly, eyes dancing across the screen of his phone. "And she's almost fully formed!" 

Harry swallows the crisps in his mouth, brows furrowed. "She?" 

Liam's still smiling when he peers up at Harry, nodding. "We've made a pool; my bet's a girl. Niall says twins and Zayn says he doesn't care as long as it's healthy." 

"You're _betting_ on my baby?" Harry questions, brow raised. 

Liam falters, glancing over at Zayn, who holds his hands up like he's got no part in this. "Uh, maybe." 

"You guys are insufferable, really." Harry shakes his head, rolling his eyes at Niall's undignified squawk. He glances at the time and stands up, sighing. "Well, I guess I'd better get going." 

Liam stands along with him, his brown eyes wide. "You sure you don't want me to come with?"

It seems to Harry that Liam is now taking his role as Daddy of the group even further, taking up for Harry's little one as well. It's endearing and Harry loves him even more for it. 

He shakes his head, grabbing his coat. "I've got it, Li." 

"You think Louis will show?" Niall asks from his spot on the couch, popping a crisp into his mouth. 

Harry only shrugs, calling out his goodbyes as he shuts the door behind himself. The ride there is relatively short, and Harry's thankful. He's ready to see his baby, to hear whether or not everything is okay. He signs in and waits, flipping through a magazine and making a list in his head of all of the things he'll need. The clock ticks by and Louis doesn't show. He tries not to be disappointed as he's ushered into a room to wait for the doctor. 

The nurse fawns over him as she takes his blood pressure and vitals, making him flush with happiness. 

When the doctor steps in, he smiles brightly at her. 

"Hello, Harry," She grins, sitting down on a stool and rolling over to him. "I'm doctor Marshall and I'll be helping you through your pregnancy. First things first, congratulations!" 

Harry smiles wider. "Thank you." 

"Now, was this planned, or?" She asks, eyes skimming over his chart. 

"Um, no. But still, a happy accident." 

She smiles at that, nodding. "I'm glad. So, let's get started-"

The door bursts open suddenly, and a flushed and wide eyed Louis is revealed. "Have I missed anything?" He asks, closing the door and looking between Harry and doctor Marshall. 

The doctor only laughs, shaking her head. "Not at all. I'm guessing you're the other father?" Louis nods hesitantly, shaking the doctor's hand and introducing himself. He takes a seat on a chair next to Harry, who's sat on the exam table. "Right, well, I was just asking Harry here if he'd like to see the baby." 

Harry nods quickly, drawing another laugh from her red lips. "Alright, let's get this started then, shall we?" 

She motions for Harry to lay back and pulls his shirt up. Harry obliges, only blushing slightly as Louis' eyes land on his belly. He's got the smallest of bumps, only noticeable like this as he lays down. Dr. Marshall says that that's normal, that everyone is different and there's no need to worry. She squeezes some gel onto his stomach and puts the wand over it, spreading it around, before she turns the screen of the monitor and lets them see. 

"So, you're about eleven weeks along, like you thought." She says, her eyes raking the screen as she moves the wand around. "And there," She points to a spot on the screen. "Is your baby." 

It's small, that's the first thing Harry notices. But not as small as he'd thought. It looks like a little alien or a little bean inside of him. He watches as it moves around, wishing he could feel it. 

"Would you like to hear the heartbeat?" She asks, glancing between both of them.

Harry nods. "Please," He breathes out quietly, eyes glued to the screen.

Suddenly, the room is filled with a _thumpthumpthump_ sound, and he smiles. Pricks of tears are forming in his eyes as he listens to and watches his baby. It feels so surreal to him; like a dream. He hopes he doesn't wake up. 

Chancing a glance beside him, he sees Louis' face is filled with just as much awe. He tears his eyes from the screen and meets Harry's own misty ones. A small smile forms on his lips before he turns back to the baby. 

"Pictures?" 

Harry nods again, lost for words. The doctor prints them out four pictures of the baby, handing them to them before she takes the wand off of Harry and wipes his stomach down. He's disappointed, but she says they'll do again at his next appointment. 

Once they're finished, she asks, "So, Harry, any sickness? Pains? Nausea?" 

"Yeah," He replies, sitting up finally. "All of it." 

"Is that normal?" Louis pipes up for the first time, a frown on his lips. 

Doctor Marshall nods, smiling. "Completely normal. Harry's hormones are going mad right now adjusting to the new life inside of him. The nausea should subside within the next two months, and the pain is the baby growing." She explains before turning back to Harry. "Any bleeding?"

He shakes his head and she nods again, seemingly content with that answer. "What about cravings?"

Harry thinks for a moment before giving another nod, a sheepish smile on his face. "Lemons. Anything and everything with lemon in it."

Doctor Marshall's grin widens as she says, "Ah, an old wives tale says that that means you're having a girl." She winks at him.

 _A girl._ His stomach flutters at the thought of a beautiful baby girl wrapped up in his arms. 

After going over another series of health questions, Doctor Marshall finishes up Harry's chart and stands. "Well, boys, everything looks normal. Check back with me if anything changes or you're concerned, but otherwise, your next appointment will be in four weeks. We may be able to find out the baby's sex then." She smiles at them, gives them a parting wave before leaving the room. 

The room is silent as Harry gets off of the table and grabs his jacket, slipping it on over his jumper. When he turns back around, Louis is standing, watching him with what seems to be a look of hesitation. 

He clears his throat, shifting on his feet before he finally speaks. "So, that was really something." 

Harry smiles at him, watching as Louis' fingers brush against the ultrasound pictures gripped in his hand. "Yeah, it really was." 

Louis glances down at the picture, a soft look on his face. "This is insane." 

Nodding, Harry says, "I know. Completely mental." It's tense, as Harry had expected, but he's glad Louis' here, putting in an effort. "Thanks, by the way." At this, Louis peers up at him, brows furrowed. "For coming, I mean. I'm glad you're here." 

In response, Louis shrugs, reaching over and opening the door for Harry. "Why wouldn't I?" 

Harry slips past him, thanking him quietly as they make their way to the front of the office. "It's just, I wasn't sure, y'know. With the way it was when I told you." 

"I'm sorry about that," Louis shakes his head as they step up to the front desk. "I was just overwhelmed, I suppose." 

Harry hums. "Understandable." 

He sets up his next appointment in four weeks, right around Christmas, and they walk out of the building together, Louis holding open the exit for him again. It shouldn't make him feel warm inside, but it does. 

Once they're in front of Harry's car, he turns to say goodbye. 

"Well, I guess I'll see you in four weeks, then." He says with a small smile, reprimanding himself for the small pinch in his chest at the thought of not seeing Louis for that long.

"Actually," Louis begins, taking a small step forward. "I was hoping we could exchange numbers? So I could keep posted on the baby and what not."

Harry finds himself nodding before Louis can even finish his sentence, digging his phone out of his pocket and handing it to Louis. Louis types out his number, texting himself before handing Harry his phone back with a smile.

"Thank you, Harry," He says, genuinely. "Text me if you need anything at all, okay?"

"I will," Harry agrees, though he knows he won't. He's got Liam, Zayn and Niall already fawning over him; waiting at his beck and call, much to his annoyance. He doesn't think he can even take one step outside before one of them is calling, asking if he's okay, if he needs anything. "Bye, Louis." 

Louis gives a small wave before turning around, walking to his own car. 

It's freezing outside, the trees bare and clouds thick, but Harry's never felt so warm. 

 

-

 

When he gets home, he's beaming. All the boys are still gathered at his and Niall's flat, waiting impatiently for him to get back. He's quiet when he enters, only flashing them a grin as he strips off his jacket and makes his way to an armchair, leaving them all sat in anticipation. The telly is muted, British Bakeoff playing silently. He swears he could drag this on forever, just barely stifling his smile while they stare at him. Finally, Liam cracks. Harry figured it'd be Niall first, honestly. 

"Well?" He prompts, huffing. 

Harry lets his smile go freely now, letting out a light laugh. "Everything is perfect. Heart rate, growth, everything." 

Zayn, on the end of the couch, lets out a breath and smiles brightly. "That's great, H!" 

Harry nods. "My doctor, she seems really nice. She said that the whole lemon obsession thing could mean I'm having a girl." 

Liam's eyes brighten, his own smile growing. "Could you imagine?" His voice bordering on awe as he glances between the boys. "The four of us, taking care of a tiny little baby girl." 

"We've definitely got to keep reading up," Niall laughs, blue eyes shining. "Boy or girl, I'm sure we'll have our hands full." 

"They're going to be so loved," Zayn breathes.

Harry stops the tears forming in his eyes as his best friends go on about his baby. Standing, he walks over to his jacket and pulls the pictures out. The boys watch curiously as he sits back down, biting his lip. 

"I also got these," He says, placing the pictures down on the table in front of them. They all lean forward, eyes surveying the pictures before realization dawns on them.

Niall's wide eyes glance up at him before back down at the picture, a finger brushing over it reverently. "This is it?" 

Nodding, Harry says, "This is the baby." 

"Our little  _jaan_ ," Zayn murmurs, smiling softly. 

Before he can get too choked up, Harry comments, "We got to hear the heartbeat too, and it was just-" Harry sighs, smiling. "It was amazing." 

"We?" Niall pipes up, sending him a questioning glance. 

"Louis came," Harry supplies, fiddling with his fingers in his lap. All of the attention in the room is focused on him now, questions filling three sets of eyes. But all Harry says is, "He's really nice." 

He doesn't mention how utterly gorgeous Louis, how he hopes their baby has his eyes and nose, how he wonders what he looks like at seven in the morning with sleepy eyes. He doesn't mention how truly fucked he is in terms of the other boy. 

 

- 

 

Two weeks later, right before the short break they have, Louis texts him and asks him what his plans are. 

 _Going home for the weekend._ He types back as he finishes packing his things. _My roomie is coming with. You?_

Louis texts back in under two minutes, which does _not_ make Harry grin like an idiot. 

_Same. Minus the roomie part . Don't think me mum would appreciate six rowdy boys eating all the supper !_

Harry giggles, zipping up his suitcase. _Surely not. Have a good time and a safe trip, Louis.x_

He hesitates before signing the x, deciding to go for it and hoping Louis isn't weirded out by it. 

_You too, Harry. Let me know how the baby handles the drive . xx_

Ignoring the double x's, Harry pockets his phone. He hadn't mentioned that this weekend would be when he'll tell his family about his pregnancy. He's nervous enough as is, and he's thankful beyond words that Niall's tagging along. He couldn't make the trip to Ireland this year, since he was saving up for Christmas tickets, but he was more than ecstatic when Anne had demanded Harry hand the phone to Niall so she could invite him. It's a well known fact that Anne Twist favors Niall over her own son. 

Just as he's finished shoving the rest of his toiletries into a small bag, Niall bursts through his door with a slightly manic grin on his face. 

"Y'ready?" 

Harry goes over his mental checklist one more time before nodding, reaching for his suitcase. Before he can even lay a hand on it, Niall's grabbing it off of his bed. 

"I've got it, H," He says, a slight smirk on his face. "A man in your position doesn't need to carry such heavy luggage." 

Harry rolls his eyes, swatting at Niall's arm. "It's literally only three days worth of clothes. I think I can manage." 

Niall only wags a finger before bounding out of Harry's room, suitcase rolling behind him. It must be the thought of all of the food that's got him so chipper, Harry thinks, trailing behind him at a slower pace. He lets out a bark of laughter as Niall almost trips on the way out of the flat, earning him a glare that couldn't even intimidate a child. If Liam is a puppy, Harry figures Niall must be a bunny. He and Zayn have had extensive conversations on the topic and they've both agreed. 

At the door, he pauses. Before he can second guess himself, he hurries into the kitchen and grabs the ultrasound picturing that hangs proudly under a little Ireland flag magnet. He smiles at it in his hands before making his way out of the flat, meeting Niall at the car. As soon as everything is packed into his little car, Niall cranks up the music and they scream along to it as Harry drives the four hours to his mother's house. 

By the time they get there, he's exhausted. It's only six in the evening, but he's ready for bed. His body is aching when they step out of the car, his back making a disgusting cracking noise that even Niall scrunches his nose at. They meet at the boot of his car, Niall grabbing as much as he can before turning to face Harry. 

"You sure you're ready for this?" He asks quietly.  

He only gives a shrug. "Now or never. 'Sides, I can't hide it forever, can I?" He motions to his belly, pulling his shirt tighter against himself to reveal a very small bump, barely noticable. 

Niall's eyes hone in on it and a smile ghosts across his lips. "I suppose." He meets Harry's eye again, raising a brow. "I'm just saying, you could probably get away with it until Christmas, maybe even New Year." 

Harry breathes out a laugh, letting go of his shirt in favor of resting a hand lightly over his bump. "I don't want to. I want to be able to tell them and share this with them. I just hope it goes well." 

Niall drops a bag, pulling in Harry for an awkward hug before he lets go. He peers down at his belly again, a hand reaching out and resting on the opposite side of Harry's. 

Harry's heart swells and he grins at Niall. 

"I'm sure it'll all be fine, H." Niall reassures, rubbing his belly before he picks up the dropped bag. "Ready?" 

"As I'll ever be." 

 

-

 

An hour later, he and Niall are sat at the dining room table with Anne, Gemma and Robin. They're all laughing and catching up, but all Harry can think about is the life growing inside of him and how much he wants to share it with his family. He isn't sure how they'll react, and that scares him. The only other time he's ever dropped a bomb on them was when he'd told them he was gay when he was sixteen. They'd been nothing but supportive and all of the tears shed that night were happy ones. But being gay and being pregnant are two totally different things. He can't help being gay; but getting pregnant was something he could have prevented. 

He feels a hand grab his under the table and he peers over at Niall, who's acting completely nonchalant about it, all the while giving him a reassuring squeeze. Harry really is thankful that Niall is here right now, because if his family doesn't react well, at least he's got him. 

Gemma is going on about something silly she'd done at work, completely embarrassing herself, when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He slips it out, biting his lip when he sees it's Louis. 

Niall gives him a sideways glance, probably already knowing who it is, and continues his conversation with a small smirk on his lips. 

 _How was the trip ?_  

Harry tries to ignore his brain as it screams "he's thinking about you!"

 _Long, tiring._ _I'm exhausted._ He types back. _Yours?_

He looks up from his phone and sees that his mum is already giving him a suspicious look, eyebrow raised. Ignoring her and the flush on his cheeks, he reads Louis' next text. 

_You should go to sleep. You need more sleep , I read somewhere. My trip was about the same , think I'll be turning in soon._

Harry bites his lip again, his insides warm as he reads over the text. Does Louis actually care about him? 

 _Think I will._ He texts, hesitating before he decides to ask, _Have you told your family yet?_  

He isn't sure, but he thinks he's curious because he doesn't want to feel alone in this. Having the boys around is nice, and he's extremely grateful for them, but they aren't the ones going through this. Niall, his very best mate, isn't the one telling his family that he's gone and gotten knocked up by someone he isn't even dating. But Louis, he can relate. He's also expecting a child and Harry just needs to know how his family took it, if he's even told them yet. 

Finally, Louis texts back. Harry idly follows the conversation going on round the table, laughing in appropriate places and sometimes putting his two cents in, and it's just enough to keep his mum's eagle eyes off of him. 

 _Not yet._ Louis' text reads. _Planning on doing it tomorrow. I'm proper nervous, though. Have you told yours ?_

Harry texts back instantly, fingers flying across the keyboard. _I'm honestly fixing to right now. We're all sat round the table and I've got my best mate here, just in case._

"-ing, Haz?" He hears Gemma's voice, just as he presses send. He jerks his head up, seeing that everyone's looking at him expectantly. Except for Niall, who's got that shit eating grin on his face. Subtle, that one. 

"Uh," He flounders, flushing a bit. "What?" 

Gemma only rolls her eyes at him. "Get off your phone, this is a family dinner." She reprimands. "I asked how school was going, twit." 

"Oh," He responds, feeling his phone vibrate in his lap. "It's uh, it's going well. 'Ve got some difficult classes this year, but um, it's fine." 

"How's Barb?" Anne pipes up. 

He clenches his phone, his fingers itching to read the text. "She's doing really well. Asked about you the other day." 

"Is she still making those amazing lemon squares?" His mum asks, oblivious to the fact that he just wants everyone's attention off of him. 

He nods, his mouth watering a bit at the mention of his favorite snack. Those lemon squares are what get him through his days at work. Thank God for Barb, he thinks. "Yeah, delicious as ever." He puts on a smile. 

Anne smiles back warmly, saying she's glad to hear that. The conversation shifts to something about Robin and footie and he takes the opportunity to check his phone. 

 _Shit, good luck !_ It says. _I hope it goes well. Call me if you need to, okay ?_

A small, discreet smile traces his lips as he types back. _I will. Thank you. Let you know how it goes.x_

His phone buzzes not but two minutes later. 

_Sorry I couldn't be there to help. I'll be waiting for the text on whether or not your family hates me. xx_

Apparently, his next smile is not so discreet because someone kicks him under the table. He yelps, looking up with a frown. Once again, everyone is staring at him. Gemma seems to be the culprit of the kick, if the smug smirk on her lips says anything. 

"Who're you texting, little brother?" She asks, mock innocent. 

"Nobody," He replies, slipping his phone back into his pocket quickly. 

"Harry," She laughs. "We literally watched you sit there and text this whole time." 

He blushes, glancing over at Niall, who has an almost panicked look on his face. "Uh, it was just Liam." 

"Ah," Anne says, glint in her eyes. "Just Liam, huh?" He nods meekly. "Since when does Liam make you smile like that?" 

Harry scoffs, rolling his eyes like a child. "Mum, I'll have you know, Liam is _quite_ the charmer." And then, with a smirk, he tacs on, "Just ask Niall." 

Niall fishmouths next to him, eyes wide like he can't believe Harry just said that. "That-Harry-You're so!" He stutters, his face turning pink. "Shut up!" 

They all laugh at Niall's expense, and he eventually joins in when he realizes nobody is going to question that comment. Anne pulls dinner from the oven, a proper roast, much to Niall's delight, and the conversation flows smoothly between everyone. As dessert's getting ready, Harry figures now is the time. He wants to vomit, actually, at how completely afraid he is to spill this news. Niall's been a steady presence next to him through the entirety of the night, sometimes sending him glances of question. He's waiting for Harry to tell them, he knows. 

Clearing his throat, and sending a quick but meaningful glance Niall's way, he finally speaks up. Now or never, he thinks. 

"So, there's something I want to tell all of you." He starts, reaching for Niall's hand under the table and gripping it like a vice. Niall runs a reassuring thumb over his knuckles. It's his way of saying _I'm here, you've got this, we're okay._

Gemma, being Gemma, is the first to bite. "Oh God, it sounds like you're gonna announce that you're pregnant or summat." She laughs, Anne joining in.

He feels his face pale, Niall's hand squeezing his even harder. Neither of them laugh. 

The room goes silent and Harry can hear his heartbeat in his ears. 

"Harry?" Anne's face is a mixture of worry and grief and God she's going to be so disappointed. 

The oven dings distantly, signaling that the dessert is ready. Nobody moves. All eyes are glued to him and he thinks he's going to be sick. 

He imagines a world where this was something expected, where he has his future husband here next to him, where everyone jumps up from the table, ecstatically hugging them both and wishing congratulations.

This isn't that world.

"I am," He finally gets out, almost a whisper. "I'm pregnant." 

"Fuck," Gemma mumbles, her eyes shifting from Harry to Niall and then back. 

"Who?" Robin asks, his own voice getting caught in his throat. "When? Harry..." 

He can feel his eyes watering as the somberness of the news takes over the room. At home, with the boys, he can be excited about his baby. He can't here, now. It all feels heavy. 

"A guy I met at a party," He explains, a stray tear streaking his cheek. His mum is crying, too. He feels awful. "I'm twelve weeks along."

"Oh, Harry," Gemma sighs, wiping at her own cheeks. She stands from the table, rounding it, and pulling him up from his chair. She hugs him tight, both of them crying, and eventually Anne joins. He feels Robin place a hand on his back, and Niall running a hand through his hair. He sobs into Gemma's shoulder, holding onto her for dear life. 

"I'm sorry," He cries weakly. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." 

Gemma just hugs tighter, shushing him. 

When they break, his eyes find Niall, who's been crying too. His eyes are red tinted, his face blotchy, but he gives Harry his own fierce hug, just the two of them. 

"I'm so fucking proud of you." He murmurs into Harry's ear. 

Harry nods, closing his eyes. "Thank you." 

"I love you," Niall says as they pull away, holding Harry's shoulders. 

Once they all sit back down at the table, it's tense. Everyone seems to be in their own heads, thoughts running rampant. 

"Are you planning on keeping it, Harry?" Robin asks, brows strewn together. His hand is cupping Anne's over the table. 

He nods, swallowing. "Yeah. I-yeah." 

"What about this boy? Does he know about this?" 

"Louis. He's been great." 

This seems to appease Robin, who turns and looks at Anne. She's been quiet this whole time, something that bothers Harry to no end. 

Finally, she looks up from where she was staring at the table and meets Harry's eye. "I just don't understand- why didn't you tell me sooner?"

His heart sinks. "I just didn't want to disappoint you."

Immediately, she starts shaking her head. "Harry," And it almost sounds like she's scolding him. "You could never disappoint me. This is big, yeah. But God, Harry, I love you." 

"I love you too," He sniffles. 

"I just want whats best for you, you know." Anne states, puffing out air. Harry thinks back to when he was a child, watching her do everything on her own when his dad left. She raised he and his sister by herself, and sure they struggled sometimes, but they always made it in the end. Now Gemma's got her own degree and she's an editor for a popular magazine and Harry's well on his way to getting his degree. He understands what she means, he thinks. She's afraid he'll end up alone and worse off than she was. He wants to ease that worry, but he isn't sure how right now. "If this is what you want, then I'm happy for you." 

Robin nods along in agreement, tired eyes focused on Harry. 

"We all just want you to be happy, H," Gemma puts in, pushing some pink hair from her face. "And if this boy, Louis, is supportive and isn't a complete deadbeat, then we really are happy for you. We're in this, all of us. Whenever you need." 

He smiles gratefully at her, eyes shining. He's sick of crying, he feels like he does it everyday now, but he thinks he's got an excuse tonight. 

"Louis' been great, yeah. He even came to my first appointment a few weeks ago." Harry says, smiling fondly at the memory. "He hasn't told his family yet, but he says he plans to sometime this weekend. I think, I think it was like, a lot to take in? And we were both overwhelmed. But I had the boys with me when I found out, and every step so far." He grins at Niall, who's beaming back. "I think I'm really lucky in that sense. And I'm lucky to have you all too. Everyone's been so supportive, massively so. I don't think I could've picked a better bunch to surround myself with." 

"Sap," Gemma teases, but she's wiping her eyes nonetheless. 

Harry rolls his eyes and laughs, effectively breaking any tension. He leans over and whispers to Niall, who nods and grins as he stands and leaves the table. 

"When's your next appointment, then?" Robin asks. 

"December twenty first," Harry replies just as Niall sits back down and slips the paper into Harry's hand under the table. "I have something, though. For you guys to keep." At their questioning glances, he slides the ultrasound picture across the table gently. 

Anne gasps, picking it up. Her eyes water as she smiles at him. His sister coos at the picture, spouting off baby names that are mostly various versions of her own. Robin laughs along, standing and finding a frame for the picture. 

He thinks about how lucky he is to have his family. He's glad it's finally out and that they know now. It's gone better than he expected, if he's honest. And he's so happy by the time he falls into bed. 

Before he goes to sleep, he texts Louis. 

_It went well. I hope it goes well for you, too. All in all, they definitely don't hate you and they're all excited about it. Sleep tight, Louis.x_

As he's nodding off, Louis texts him back. 

_I'm so happy for you and I'm extremely glad they don't hate me, yet. (; It'll make meeting them when the time comes a bit easier. Rest well, Harry. Tell the baby I said goodnight. I'll let you know how things go for me as well. You've given me newfound hope. xx_

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we are. Part Two. Almost exactly two weeks after Part One! Look at me go!
> 
> Expect some light angst, because I'm an angsty person and can't write anything without it for some reason. Also some fluff, of course. 
> 
> Also, this may very well end up being four chapters instead of three, so anticipate that. This one turned out way longer than I expected, so. 
> 
> (Any mistakes are mine and if you see something that isn't right, don't hesitate to let me know, please! I'm horrible at editing because I'm trash and I'm lazy.)

**PART II**

_"The expected is just the beginning. The unexpected is what changes our lives."_

_-Greys Anatomy_

**_**

 

After tearful goodbyes and too many hugs to count, Harry is back home with Niall. Before leaving, his mum had pulled him aside and made him promise to keep her up to date on everything baby related. They'd all been so supportive after the shock had settled, discussing names and nurseries and paint colors. Truth be told, they even pointed out things Harry hadn't thought about. For instance, where was the baby sleeping? Was he staying in the flat with Niall, or finding his own? What about Louis, was he going to get the baby some nights, too? Would Harry be okay with that? Could Harry afford his own flat? It was overwhelming, to say the least. Questions were flying from left and right, most of which he didn't have an answer to. With week twelve of his pregnancy coming to a close, he felt like a bird, trapped. He knows it's awhile before the baby is here, but he feels like he's suffocating with all of the things he's left to do. He decides resolutely to make a list of all of the things he'll need for the baby's arrival. 

The first thing he writes down is a crib. Obviously. That one's a no brainer. Tapping his pen against his chin, he writes down bottles. Blankets, clothing, diapers, formula, a carseat, baby monitors, bedding for the crib, burp cloths, bibs, more diapers, dummies, a rocking chair, wipies, a baby swing, and by then he draws a blank. Everything he's already written down is just- it's so much. He already needs so much and he knows that he hasn't even scratched the surface. 

A wave of anxiety rushes through him as he reads and rereads the list, over and over. How is he meant to afford all of this? And where is he supposed to put it all? Overwhelmed, he sets the list down on the table, rubbing a hand over his face. He isn't sure what the fuck he's supposed to do. He can't pick up more hours at the bakery, for school might get in the way. He still needs time to study, after all. He's determined to make this work, though. He has to. He can't be another stereotype of a young parent who gave up on their dreams. What kind of example would that leave? He wants his child to see him working hard to get to his goals, to see him fulfilling his dreams, despite it all. He wants his child to look up to him. 

How the bloody hell is he supposed to do that when he's struggling?

His phone vibrates on the table next to the daunting piece of paper. He grabs it, Louis' name lighting up the screen. 

He's on the verge of a mental break, how is he supposed to sound normal on the phone? With Louis, of all people. 

He tries anyway. 

"Hello?" He greets, voice only wavering slightly. 

"Harry, how are you?" Louis' thin voice filters through. Harry wonders if he's still at his mum's. 

"'M well, thank you." He replies, standing from the table and trying to put as much distance between himself and that paper as possible. "Yourself?" 

There's shuffling on the line before Louis says, "I'm alright. I told my family." 

Harry pauses in his process of pouring some juice. "How'd it go?" 

"Really well, actually," Louis answers easily. "The only one upset was my stepdad. Thinks I'm throwing away my future and what not." 

He shakes his head, taking a sip of his cup. "You're still finishing school, right?" 

Louis hums, "Of course." 

"So really, you're bettering your future. For yourself and the baby."

"Yeah, s'pose you're right, Harry." He can hear a smile through the phone. "Speaking of, how is the little bean?" 

Harry smiles at the nickname, absently running a hand over his ever-growing bump. "Good. Liam, my mate that I've mentioned, he says that it's got fingerprints now. And it's the size of a pea pod, weighing an ounce or summat." 

"God," Louis murmurs. "That's amazing. I read somewhere that this is like, the end of your first trimester, right?" 

There he goes again, reading up on Harry's pregnancy and sending him into a wave of warmth. 

"Yeah," Harry nods, not minding the smile still in place. "Week fourteen starts my second." 

"And you're doing okay?" Louis asks. 

"I'm doing great. I'm not sick anymore, thank God. I'm still exhausted, but it's alright." He answers truthfully. "It's worth it." 

There's more shuffling on the line, and it almost sounds like Louis' out somewhere. Indistinct chatter fills his ears for a moment, Louis speaking to someone else. 

"I'm glad to hear that," He says, his voice gone softer now he's speaking into the phone. "Listen, the reason I called is because I was wondering what you're up to today?" 

Looking at the clock, Harry sees it's already half five in the evening. "Um, well I'm probably staying in to be honest. Niall's out with the lads."

"Would you like to maybe, hang out?" Louis asks, hesitant through the line.

Butterflies erupt in Harry's stomach and he's answering before he's even thought it over. "Yeah, 'course. Do you want to come round to mine?" 

He bites his lip, waiting for Louis' reply. He can at least tell now, from what it sounds like, that Louis is outside. 

"That's perfect." Louis says through static. "I'll be there after you text me the address, okay?" 

"Okay," Harry smiles, ending the call. He texts Louis immediately, letting him know where he lives, before he glances around his flat. It isn't a mess, thanks to him. He's been cleaning up after Niall for awhile, so that's nothing new. He walks into his room, just in case, and surveys the area. Everything is in it's place, just as he's left it. Only a stray, unpacked suitcase sits in the corner, the only thing out of place. Before he walks out, he catches his appearance. Sweats that are too small, a stained white shirt, and his hair is up in a mess of a bun. 

Hurriedly, he strips. In record time he's got on a pair of what Niall swears are jeggings (they aren't, shut up Niall), a clean white shirt and a red flannel over it. He refixes his bun, a few stray curls poking out, but he hasn't got the time to mess with it. The bell rings, and he gets to the door in sock clad feet, taking a deep breath before he opens it. 

Louis stands there, in all his glory, a smile on his face, aviators on top of his head. 

"Hey," Harry breathes, resolutely _not_ checking the father of his child out. He steps aside and motions towards the flat. "Come in, please." 

Louis nods, stepping inside. Harry honestly can't help but notice the scruff on his chin he hasn't previously seen and ignores the things it does to him, opting instead to focus on the bag Louis' got in his hand. Before he can ask, Louis' turning around.

"Well, gonna give me the grand tour or am I just gonna have to snoop?" He grins, tucking his sunglasses into the front pocket of his shirt. 

Harry gives a sheepish smile and leads him around the flat, showing him all the stops. He gets to his room, pushing open the dark wood door and stepping in. 

It isn't as extravagant as Louis', by far. It's plain, white walls and white carpet. But Harry's made due, making it his own in other ways since they can't paint it. There are black and white polaroids lining the walls, fairy lights strewn over his headboard and a scented candle that smells like pumpkin sat on his desk, flame dancing. His style, to say the least, is minimal. He's a bit embarrassed as Louis starts perusing, eyeing all of his pictures. They're mostly of him and the boys, nights out that he's wanted to remember, moments of joy he keeps close to his heart. There are a few of him and Gemma and some of his mum and Robin. It's silly to be embarrassed about it; photography is something he enjoys. He isn't sure why his cheeks go pink when Louis turns back around. 

"It's nice," He compliments, sitting down on Harry's black bedspread. "I like it. It's very..." 

"Boring?" Harry supplies, shuffling in his spot across the room. He's not quite sure what to do now he's got Louis here. It feels foreign, unreal. 

Louis lets out a tinkling laugh, shaking his head. "No, I really like it. I was going for something like subdued? It fits, I think. You can tell a lot about someone from their bedroom." 

"Profound," Harry teases, dimples poking. He wants to say something about how much he admired Louis' own room, but he isn't sure if he should. 

"I'll have you know, I'm very wise, Styles." Louis grins, setting the bag down on Harry's bed. 

Harry's eyes watch the movement curiously. Louis must catch on, because his grin widens even more. 

"I brought something." He states. 

"Obviously." 

Louis sticks his tongue out, obviously unaware of how adorable he is, and pats the spot next to him. "You have to come sit down if you want to see." 

The last time Harry was on a bed with Louis, he got pregnant. He's very aware of this as he sits down across from him, folding his legs beneath himself and tucking a curl behind his ear. Louis' eyes linger on him for a split second before he grabs the small bag and unfolds it, reaching in. 

He pulls out something wrapped in another light paper, something baked. Harry smells it as soon as Louis begins unwrapping it. 

"I remember you said something about lemons," He explains, pulling the rest of the paper off, leaving it only slightly wrapped. "So I thought I'd get you something sweet." Louis shrugs, handing over the treat. He isn't meeting Harry's eye for some reason. 

Harry takes it. And then he smiles. 

It's a sweet roll. A lemon sweet roll. It's the most thoughtful thing that someone's done for him as of late. His heart flutters in his chest when he lifts his gaze back up to Louis, who's watching him hesitantly, as if he isn't sure what Harry will think. As if he cares what Harry thinks. 

"Louis," Harry smiles, sweet roll still in his hand. "This is really too kind of you. You didn't have to." 

"I wanted to," Louis shrugs again, but there's a smile forming on his lips as he takes in Harry's obvious happiness. 

Harry glances down at the roll again, biting his lip. He takes it, breaking it in half as best he can, and handing Louis the bigger piece. Confusion takes up Louis' face, his eyebrows furrowed cutely. 

"Share it with me?" Harry asks tentatively. 

Louis pauses for a moment, eyes searching Harry's face for something. Harry hopes he finds it. 

He nods finally, taking a bite from the sticky sweet treat. "Thank you." 

Harry shakes his head, smiling again. He seems to do that a lot lately. "Thank _you_." 

They finish their desserts in what Harry deems record time. At the mention of tea, Louis lights up and follows Harry into the kitchen, sitting on a barstool as Harry shuffles around. He sets the kettle on the stove, pulling out two tea cups and setting them on the counter in front of Louis. 

As he pours the tea, he tries not to think about how comfortable this is. How domestic it feels. And how Louis' been watching him this whole time. 

"You're showing," Louis says before taking a sip of his once it's finished. Harry wants to laugh when he winces, point out that it's still obviously hot. 

He only hums, stirring some sugar into his own. "I know." He can't help the smile that crosses his face at the thought of his tiny bump. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't worn this shirt just to show it off. His bump, however small it is, is finally there. To the untrained eye, he'd be deemed pudgy. 

"It looks good on you." Louis says, causing his heart to race. Before he can ask him to elaborate, Louis changes the subject, only slightly. "Are you ready for the next appointment?" 

"So ready," Harry nods. "The weeks are going by so slow." 

Louis smiles at him, his eyes twinkling. "Aren't they? Do you reckon you'll want to know what we're having?" 

 _We're_ having. 

_We._

"I'm not sure," Harry shrugs, finding his composure. "What about you?"

Louis sighs, thinking for a moment before he says, "I rather like the idea of a surprise." 

Taking a sip of tea to hide his fond smile, Harry nods. "Me too." 

 

**-**

 

Week thirteen passes in a blur of school and work, as exhausting as it is. Harry phones his mum a grand total of five times, much to her delight. The boys are over as much as they have been, movie nights becoming a regular thing. When they all order takeout, Harry scolds them on their unhealthy eating as he eats his own plate of veggies and whatever else he's deemed appropriate for the baby. He hears from Louis randomly throughout the week, questions about the baby and himself being the topic most days. Harry can't help but notice that he's been a bit more short since the day he came over. Their usually long talks over superheroes and junk food, now reduced to short ten minute conversations about pregnancy, weight gain and his general health. Harry still takes it though, glad that Louis' so concerned about their baby. 

As the week comes to a close, he winds down at Zayn and Liam's, the other boys sprawled out around the room. _Batman Vs. Superman_ is playing on the telly, respective bowls of popcorn passed around, save for Harry, whose opted for cubed fruit instead. The boys, for their part, have apparently decided to stop going out as much. Harry figures it's because of him and he feels guilty for it. He doesn't think they should suffer, just because he chooses to stay home now. They all insist that isn't the reason, but none of them have ever been good at lying. 

He tries to focus on the movie, but his mind keeps drifting to all of his previous worries. He hasn't had a day off this week, between school and work. Barbra has offered him a slight raise, which he profusely denied, but his check said she'd given it to him anyway. He's thankful, though. He decides tomorrow, his only off day being a Sunday, that he's going to go do a bit of shopping. 

As the movie comes to a close, an awful one at that, the boys all shift. Liam switches it off, taking everyone's empty bowls to the kitchen. 

When he comes back, there seems to be a silent conversation between the other three that Harry is apparently not keyed in on, aggravating as it is. When they all turn to him, he's got a brow raised. 

"So, Haz," Niall starts, tone breezy. Obviously they chose Niall in this situation, he's usually the most blunt of the four of them. "We were wondering if we're ever going to meet Louis." 

Harry's a little surprised. He honestly wasn't expecting this, of all things, to be what they were going to ask. He figured it'd be something about his sudden scented candle obsession or the fact that he's been secretly throwing out more and more of their junk food. 

Clearing his throat, he sits up. "What?" 

"It's just, he's been in on this situation for a few weeks now, and this is obviously a big deal." Zayn pipes up tentatively. "He's going to be in your life for, like, ever. And so are we. So, it only makes since, right?" 

"You said he's a nice guy, right?" Liam asks. "We just want to at least get to know him, especially given the situation." 

Sometimes, Harry feels like the lads are trying to take on the role of parenting when it comes to him. Liam mothers him to no end and Zayn's almost as bad. Niall only comes in when he feels the need, which has been more lately. Harry doesn't like feeling like a child. He's bloody _having_ a child for Christ's sake. He's the youngest out of all of them, and that becomes glaringly obvious sometimes.

He shifts in his spot, trying to tamp down his sudden unwarranted irritation before asking, "Why, all of a sudden, are you all wanting to meet him?" 

"It isn't all of a sudden," Niall replies, shaking his head. "It's been since you figured out it was him. And you said you guys got on last week, didn't you?" 

When he'd told them all about his _completely_ causal hang out with Louis, he recalls being met with nothing but suspicious stares, especially when he mentioned the sweet roll incident. "Yes." 

"Right, so," Liam waves his hand around vaguely. "We want to have that chance, too." 

"Look, H," Zayn steps in, always the mediator, even when it isn't needed. "We're in this for you and the baby. It seems like Louis is, too. He really sounds like a good guy, and we all just want to be able to get along. For you and for the little _jaan_."

Contemplating this, and realizing they're all probably right, Harry sighs. "Fine. I'll ask him." 

Liam lights up, reaching over and putting a hand on Harry's knee. "Thanks, H." 

Harry rolls his eyes playfully, a smile tilting the corners of his lips. "Whatever." 

 

**-**

 

At eleven the next morning, Harry finds himself strolling through a baby shop with Zayn. He's got his list in hand, and they're both on a mission. Zayn seemed like the best choice out of the three to take with him. Niall would be all over the place, picking out the most ridiculous onesies he could find and basically being a pest. Liam would have walked in, cooed at everything and insisted on buying out the whole store. Zayn, on the other hand, is a quick and expert shopper. He's got some sort of gift, Harry thinks. His ability to hone in on anything decently priced but still upscale is honestly scary. 

Currently, they're on opposite sides of the store, Harry sorting through clothing while Zayn looks for bottles. They've already got a box of diapers and wipies, one pack of dummies, and a handful of bibs picked out. Zayn had helpfully reminded Harry that he needn't get everything on the list, due to the fact that he'd obviously be having a baby shower at some point. That, at least, took some weight off of his shoulders. 

Just as he's found the most adorable pineapple onesie, Zayn saunters up, a package of bottles in hand. 

"No." He states, shaking his head at the onesie as he places the bottles in the basket they've got. "Absolutely not." 

Offended, Harry clutches the onesie in his hand. "Excuse me?" 

Zayn tuts, sorting through the same rack of onesies. "I will not have my niece or nephew dressed in your hipster trash." 

Harry lets out a sound of indignation, jaw dropping slightly. Zayn ignores him, continuing to sort through onesies like it's no sweat off his back that he's just completely ruined Harry's dreams. 

When the onesie ends up in the pile of things they've bought, Harry only flashes him a smirk as he pays, ignoring Zayn's head shake. _As if_ he has any room to talk, has he seen the way _he_ dresses? Please. 

They decide on lunch at an italian place down the street from campus. It's cute and quiet and Harry's fucking starving so he's thankful that there isn't a wait. 

After they order, Harry texts his mum about his day and lets her know that he's alright. Niall has also texted, asking the whereabouts of the box of brownies he's just bought. Harry's honestly surprised it took him this long to realize they're gone. 

As he's contemplating what to write back, he faintly hears the chime of the door behind them as someone walks in. He settles for not texting back just as someone says, "Harry?" 

Whipping around, he sees Louis. "Louis, hey." He smiles, getting one in return. 

At the sound of Louis' name, Zayn's head shoots up. With wrinkled brows, he says, " _Louis?_ " 

Louis shifts his attention to Zayn, his own face scrunching. " _Zayn?_ " 

Confused, Harry glances between the two as Louis walks up to their table. "You two know each other?" 

"Louis used to work with me at the record shop," Zayn explains, giving the man in question a fist bump by means of hello. "Haven't seen him in awhile." 

Louis grins, hands in his pockets where he stands. "Life's been busy lately," His eyes shift over to Harry and back to Zayn. "But I guess you'd know that." 

Seeming to realize what this implies, Zayn's eyes widen. "Wait, _you're_ Louis? _The_ Louis?" 

"The one and only, it would seem." Louis affirms, cracking a smile. 

"Huh." Zayn breathes, glancing between him and Harry. "What a small world. Who would've thought." He says it more to himself than the other two, so Harry doesn't question what exactly he means. 

Clearing his throat, he motions for the table. "Sit?" 

Louis nods, thanking him, and surprisingly, taking the seat next to him instead of Zayn. His eyes roam the menu as he asks, "What've you been up to today?" 

Harry assumes it's directed at him, though he can't be sure since Louis isn't looking at him. It reminds him that he hasn't spoken to Louis in two days, which is a little disheartening. Though he thinks he may have needed the reminder.  "Shopping." 

"Oh? What'd we get, then?" Louis asks, finally turning to meet his eyes. They're so blue it nearly knocks the wind out of him and he shifts in his seat, discreetly inching away, putting some space between them. 

"Just some baby stuff," Harry replies vaguely. He can feel himself closing up, but he doesn't think it's unfair. Louis' the one who's distant lately, he's only returning the favor. 

Louis doesn't seem to notice, only asking more questions. "Like what?" It seems his interest is peaked. 

"Necessities." Harry replies with a shrug, not missing the way Louis' face shifts into slight confusion at his change of demeanor. It's a far stretch from how they were just a week ago. 

How _he_ was just a week ago. 

Clearly sensing tension, Zayn clears his throat from across the table. "How've you been, anyway? It's been ages." 

Thank God for Zayn, Harry thinks. The two of them talk until Harry and Zayn's orders are served, Louis making a small order himself. They rehash old memories and laugh about stupid shit they did, and were probably not supposed to do, while working. Harry gets some insight on Louis' past, slight as it is. He's glad the two get along so well, but he also feels a weird sense of missing out. They've got so many memories and Harry's only a tiny bit jealous. 

After they've all cleared their plates, Harry checks the time on his phone in an obvious manner. Zayn notices, quirking a brow. Harry knows he's at least picked up on the fact that he's been quiet most of the time. He knows he'll get bombarded with questions later, mostly pertaining to why Harry's giving Louis the cold shoulder. 

It isn't his fault, he reminds himself. Louis' the one who obviously wants to distance himself. It's fine. He's giving him what he wants.

"Right, well, we should get going." Harry states, resolutely ignoring the stare he feels coming from a pair of blue eyes. 

He needs to get away from him soon. Their knees have been brushing almost this whole time, sending jolts up Harry's leg. His hormones are going crazy being this close to Louis, smelling his aftershave and feeling his slight touch. He's bordering on wanting to clock him between the eyes for being so distant and ripping his pants off to offer himself to him. It's a bit much and he needs some space. 

Zayn nods, following his lead because he's the best and Harry loves him. "Yeah, make sure Niall's not burnt your flat down yet." He stands, Louis following suit to let Harry out of the booth. "Louis, mate, it was great catching up. I assume you'll be around more given you've impregnated my best mate?" 

Ah, tact, and Zayn's lack thereof. Harry stifles an eye roll, shifting on his feet. He's exhausted and he's ready to go home and take a much needed nap. 

Louis, for his part, handles it well. "Yeah," He chuckles, giving Zayn a _bro hug_. "I suppose so." 

Zayn smiles easily at him, nodding. "Great. How about Tuesday evening, say about six?" 

"Oh," Louis' eyes widen slightly, looking to Harry for help. Harry gives a shrug. "Um, sure?"

"Brilliant," Zayn beams like the little shit he is. "We'll meet at Harry's place. You know where that's at?" There's definitely a smirk on his lips. Harry lied earlier, he actually detests Zayn. 

Louis nods quickly, looking the picture of confusion. "Yeah." 

Zayn nods once, smiling brightly. "See you Tuesday, then, mate." And with that, he saunters past Harry, pushing his sunglasses over his eyes and leaving Harry there, glaring at his back. 

"So," Louis' voice pulls him out of his momentary death plot. "That was interesting." 

Harry turns, meets his eyes for a moment before he shrugs again. "Zayn's interesting." 

Louis shifts, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Um, are you okay? Like, you've been quiet and I don't know, weird? Are we okay?" 

A pang of guilt shoots through Harry's heart and he sighs, meeting Louis' gaze again. "We're fine. 'M just tired, 's all." 

Louis seems to let out a breath, nodding as he runs a hand through his hair. "Okay. I was a bit worried I'd done something."

Harry shakes his head, suddenly too tired for this. "Nah. Just a long day." 

"Go home and rest, then," Louis instructs, stepping towards the exit. He places a hand on Harry's lower back as he guides him out the door, opening it for him. Fuck him for being so polite. 

Zayn's sat in Harry's car, waiting as he taps away on his phone. 

"You don't have to come on Tuesday, by the way." Harry says, the corner of his mouth tilting up. "My friends can be a bit overbearing at points." 

Louis grins at him, the first grin he's directed at him in a week. "Might as well get it out of the way. Gotta make a good impression and all. Let 'em know you're in good hands." 

He says it as if they're together, which reminds Harry that this isn't an ideal situation they're all in. That Louis is decidedly not interested in anything of that sort, obviously so as of late. It's what makes him shift away, backing up towards the car. "Right. Well, see you Tuesday, then." He says quickly, sliding into the car before Louis can question. He's running away. He isn't sure what he's running from or why, but he is. Maybe it's the fear of inevitable heartbreak, the thought that at any given moment he could fall for Louis, and Louis wouldn't be there to return the sentiment. 

This is platonic. What they're trying to do, raising a baby together _without_ being together, it's all completely platonic. People do it all the time. Harry can do it. He can. He can be around Louis without thinking of the way he'd taste. He can be around him without wondering what his hands feel like, wishing he remembered any small detail of the night they were together. He can be around him without wishing things were simple, wishing Louis wanted him. 

When he drives off, Louis' still standing there, brows furrowed as he watches Harry drive away. 

He doesn't look back. 

 

**-**

 

After a full day of classes on Tuesday, the last thing Harry wants to do when he gets home is cook. So, when he walks into his flat and sees all three of his friends in his kitchen, the only rational thing to do is cry. Of course, they all drop what they're doing and rush to him, worried. He assures them he's fine, that he's just happy and grateful, and they all smile and wrap him in hugs, ushering him off to shower and change. When he returns, dinner is nearly finished. It's only twenty to six, and he's starving, but the boys say he has to wait for Louis to arrive before they eat. 

Since Sunday, Louis' texted him a grand total of twice. Harry doesn't dwell on it. 

When Zayn had told the boys he knew Louis, it gave the other two a seemingly renewed confidence that Louis genuinely was a good guy. Thankfully, Zayn didn't mention anything about Harry's odd behavior towards the other boy. In fact, he hasn't mentioned it all, not even to Harry himself. 

A knock at the door makes him jump from where he's seated at the table. Zayn volunteers to answer it and trails out of the kitchen. Harry hears Louis' voice before he sees him, stepping into the kitchen behind Zayn. 

With a pointed look from Zayn, Harry sighs, standing from the table. He grabs Louis' arm gently, pulling him over to where Liam's pouring some wine and Niall's plating the food. 

"Niall, Liam, this is Louis." He introduces, letting his hand drop from Louis' arm. "Louis, the lads." 

Liam gives a wide smile, stepping up and outstretching a hand. "Great to finally meet you. I'm Liam." 

Louis returns the smile, eyes crinkling. "Great to meet you, too, Liam." 

As Liam drops his hand, Niall bounds up. Taking everyone by surprise, especially Louis, he throws his arms around him and hugs him. 

Louis chuckles, hugging back. "You must be Niall." 

"That'd be me," Niall grins, pulling back. "Pleasure's mine. Thanks for not being a dick to Harry."

A startled laugh escapes Louis' lips, causing Harry's own to quirk up as he watches the exchange. "It's not a problem, really. He's not too hard to be nice to." 

After they've exchanged pleasantries, Harry leads Louis to the table. Zayn's busy helping finish the plates, leaving the two of them alone. 

"So, hi." Louis speaks up after a beat of silence. He's smiling slightly, eyes boring into Harry's own. 

Harry gives him a small smile back, waving sheepishly. "Hey." 

Louis bites his lip like he's contemplating saying something before he sighs, eyes shifting to Harry's tattoos on his arms. "Listen, about the other day-" 

"Dinner is served!" Niall's loud voice interrupts, placing two plates down in front of them with a broad smile. Harry isn't sure if he's thankful for the interruption or if he'd actually have liked to hear what Louis was going to say. 

Liam follows suit with a glass of wine for Louis and water for Harry. The three soon join them at the table, their own drinks and plates in hand. The conversation stays light for awhile, but Harry knows it won't stay that way all night. He knows his friends and he knows the questions they're just dying to ask. He's glad they're at least holding off for now. 

Beside him, Louis laughs and chats like he hasn't just met the boys. He sips his wine, lips turning a cherry red color and compliments Niall on his cooking. He talks to Liam about his studies, his favorite dog breed and music. Niall asks him about his childhood, which starts a conversation on footie that seems to last awhile. It seems like they're all getting along easily enough which makes Harry thankful. 

As they all finish their plates, Liam is the first to shift the conversation. 

"So," He grins at Harry. "Fourteen weeks. How's it feel?"

Harry sighs, smiling back at him. "Exactly the same, actually. 'M not as tired as I was a few weeks ago, so that's a plus."

"That's good, Haz. I think I read something about you getting your energy back and such." Liam nods, brows wrinkled while he thinks.

"Your next appointment is next week, right?" Niall asks from across from him, taking a sip of his wine.

Harry nods.

"You two thinking about finding out what it is?" Liam asks them. "I read that that might be possible soon."

Louis shifts beside him, drawing Harry's attention to him. He's looking at him, gentle smile on his lips. He must be recalling their conversation about this, how they'd both come to an agreement pretty easily.

"I think we decided we're going to let it be a surprise," Louis replies, his gaze shifting to Liam.

Zayn nods along with the conversation, finally speaking up. "Have you decided what you're going to do when the baby gets here?"

Harry shakes his head meekly as Louis answers with a simple, "No."  

Zayn hums, taking a sip of his glass. "Louis, do you have a place?" 

Louis nods easily, obviously not bothered by the questions. "Yeah, but it's student housing so I share with five other lads." 

"Mate, that must be awful." Niall pipes up, face pinched together. "I can barely stand living with this one." He points a finger at Harry, smirking. 

"Excuse me, Niall," Harry says, mock offended. His dimples give him away. "I'm the best flatmate." 

Niall grins at him. "My perfect little housewife. Does my laundry and cleans up every mess I leave. What would I do without you?" 

"Waste away in your own filth." Harry shrugs. 

Louis chuckles beside him. "I'm not particularly good at cleaning up, meself. You're lucky to have Harry, here." 

"Yeah, s'pose I am," Niall smiles, blowing a kiss at Harry. Harry rolls his eyes, but catches it anyway, pretending to put it in his pocket with a huff.

"Do you have any siblings, Louis?" Liam asks, finishing off his wine. 

Louis smiles at that, nodding. "Five sisters and a brother. Suppose I'm pretty well versed in diaper changing by now." 

Liam lets out a low whistle, shaking his head. "Good that you're prepared then, I guess." 

A chuckle escapes Louis' lips. "Definitely." 

"You two are getting along pretty well, right?" Zayn questions. Apparently, he's the one who's going to be hard hitting tonight, despite his knowing Louis. 

Harry decides to answer this one. "Yeah, we're getting along fine." 

Zayn hums, eyes flickering between the two. "No tiffs yet?" 

Harry swallows, shaking his head. 

"Good. It's best to get that out now, rather than when the baby comes. Wouldn't want any tension surrounding the little one." At this, his eyes linger on Harry a bit longer before he shrugs, taking a sip of his wine. "Just my opinion anyway." 

Harry wants to say that he knows this. That he realizes that he and Louis should sort shit out soon. He's got twenty six weeks left, though. An eternity, it feels like. They'll have to have everything sorted out by then, surely. 

"I completely agree," Louis speaks up, taking Harry by surprise. "Harry and I have a lot to talk about before the baby gets here. Trust me, we aren't taking it lightly. There's so much to sort out before then, and I'm sure the stress of it all isn't good for Harry. But I've got no doubt that we'll figure it all out, together." He peers over at Harry, a spark of something in his blue eyes. The corner of his mouth tilts up as he says, "Right, Hazza?" 

 _Hazza._  

He hasn't called him that before. 

Harry nods, giving a small smile back. "I couldn't have said it better, Lou." 

 

 

**-**

 

 

Harry doesn't end up talking to Louis that night. Which leaves even more questions whirling through his mind. As of now, he's trying to focus on his studies. He's sat in the library on campus, reading over the notes he took in Lit. They're scrambled, confusing and unorganized. He curses under his breath at his lack of study skills, wishing he'd taken better notes. He was late that day, only half understanding what the professor was talking about. With a sigh, he cracks open his laptop to begin the essay that's due by the end of the week. 

With the help of Google, and some of his awful notes, he finishes in just under two hours. He's still got to go through and revise it, but it's good enough to get him at least a B, so he figures he's done for the day. Checking the time, he sees he's got an hour before work. He packs up his things and slips out of the library, making his way to the tube. 

It takes him twenty minutes to get to the bakery, the bell on the door chiming as he steps in. 

Babara is behind the counter, helping a customer. She smiles at him with her brows furrowed. When the customer walks away with a thank you, she turns to Harry where he's sat at a table near the counter. 

"Harry," She greets, sitting across from him. "You're awful early." 

He gives a sheepish grin, shrugging. "My essay didn't take as long as I thought it would." 

"Ah," Babs nods. "Would you like something to snack on?"

She's been asking him that every time he comes in, practically shoving sweets into his face and demanding he eat them. It delights her to no end when he complies, telling him she just can't wait to spoil the baby with sweets and baked goods. Harry really loves her. 

Knowing it'd be a pointless to disagree and say he's already eaten, he nods. Babs lights up, rushing behind the counter and grabbing things from display cases. When she comes back, she's got two chocolate scones and a blueberry muffin. Harry thanks her profusely, his stomach growling as he digs in. Barbara chats with him in between customers, asking about the lads and his family. 

After he finishes, he wipes his hands on a napkin and disposes of it, slipping into the back to slide his apron on. When he emerges, Babs is waiting for him by the till. 

"How are things with Louis?" She asks idly, restocking the display case of muffins. 

"Things are good," He shrugs. "The same, really."

Babs hums, closing the case and eyeing him. "And how'd it go with the lads the other night?" 

"Really well, actually. They all got along and I think Niall's considering packing up to live with him." 

Barbara chuckles, wrinkles forming by her eyes. "Sounds like Niall. I'm glad it all went well, Harry. He sounds like a nice boy." 

Harry smiles, giving a nod. 

The rest of the day goes by smoothly, customers coming in and out and the lunch rush is slower than usual, so he's thankful. By the time he gets home, his feet are screaming and his back is aching. He flops down on the couch between Niall and Zayn, resting his feet on the table. Niall pats his leg and Harry lays his head on his shoulder. 

"Long day?" He asks, petting Harry's hair. 

Harry grunts in response, burrowing further into his shoulder. His head is heavy, his eyes drooping. 

"You want some tea, babe?" Zayn asks from beside him. 

"Please," Harry says, reaching over and patting his hand in thanks. 

Zayn leaves to make his tea, coming back with his favorite mug and a soft smile. 

"Thank you. Love you," Harry smiles, taking the steaming mug from his hands. 

"Love you more." 

They all sit in comfortable silence while Harry's favorite baking show plays, getting into it more than any of them would admit. As a commercial comes on, Niall shifts next to him, eyes settling on Harry. 

"Y'know," He starts, and Harry can already tell that he probably _doesn't_ want to know. "You and Louis are cute together." 

Harry scoffs, shaking his head and sipping his tea. He knows his cheeks are pink, but he ignores it, eyes trained on the telly. 

Apparently, Zayn doesn't have the same reaction, judging by the way Niall squawks, "Don't raise that immaculate brow at me, Zayn! I was just saying!" 

"That's not happening, Niall." Harry says mildly, watching the screen as the bakers rush around. "Thanks for that oddly random observation, though." 

"C'mon," Niall urges, apparently not willing to let this go. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it. I know those hormones are running rampant. Besides, Louis isn't exactly hard to look at." He nudges him, and without even looking, Harry knows he's winking. 

Harry shakes his head, still not giving in. "Nope. He's fit, sure, s'probably why I slept with him in the first place. But we see how that turned out." He gestures for his bump. 

"So it hasn't even crossed your mind at all?" Niall prompts, a look of disbelief on his face. 

Harry finally glances over at him, willing his face not to give anything away as he lies. "No." He says flatly, then turns the telly up. 

All Niall gives in response is a sigh and a head shake. 

 

When Harry slips into bed, his phone goes off. He reaches for it, squinting at the brightness and reads off a text from Louis. 

_Hope your day went well. I'll see you tomorrow ! x_

Tomorrow. Tomorrow is their next appointment. A giddy feeling shoots through Harry's stomach as he writes back. 

_I hope yours was well, as well. See you tomorrow.x_

 

-

 

The light snow on the ground blankets around Harry as he walks beside Louis into the office. It's freezing outside and he's glad he brought his heavy coat with him, offering Louis the extra pair of gloves he had in his pocket. He absolutely  _did not_ acknowledge the fact that they swallowed Louis' hands up. 

After signing in, they sit in a pair of chairs. Harry grabs a magazine and flips through it, barely paying attention to his surroundings. A woman walks in carrying a baby carrier, blanket over it to protect the baby from the cold. She signs in and sits across from he and Louis, pulling the baby out of the carrier and cooing at it. 

Harry watches from behind his magazine as she smiles down at it. He figures the baby can't be more than a month old and he smiles softly. It's a boy, he thinks. He's got on pale blue socks, gray pants and a white onesie. A little hat with ears adorns his head and the dummie he has in his mouth takes up half of his face. He's the most precious thing Harry's ever seen. 

Beside him, Louis whispers, "Cute, isn't he?" 

Harry turns to him, nodding with a smile. "Extremely. I can't wait 'til we've got ours here."

A soft smile takes Louis' lips. "Me either. Can't wait until we get to hold them in our arms, just like that. It's gonna be so great." 

Harry bites his lip around a smile, ignoring the rush he feels in his heart at the thought. 

His name is called soon and he and Louis follow a nurse into a vacant room. She takes his vitals just like last time, introducing herself to Louis, before slipping out of the room. Harry pulls himself up onto the table and swings his legs, suddenly nervous. He worries his lip between his teeth as he thinks about the possibilities of something going wrong. It's been four weeks since his last appointment and he has no way of knowing if the baby is still alright. 

"Y'alright?" Louis asks from his spot in a plastic chair beside the bed. "You look a little green." 

Harry peers over at him. "'M just worried." 

Louis reaches a hand out, settling it on Harry's knee. "I'm sure everything's fine, Hazza." 

He feels a little more reassured, glad someone's here with him. "Thank you." 

Louis gives his knee a pat and smiles before setting his hands in his lap. "'S what I'm here for, innit?" 

Dr. Marshall steps in moments later, greeting the two of them with a grin. She sets up some equipment as she makes small talk. When she finishes, she sits down on a stool and scoots up to the table. 

"So, Harry, how're you feeling?" 

"I'm well, thank you. Tired, as usual. 'M a bit nervous, though." He glances over at Louis, who nods for him to continue. "What if- what if there's something wrong?" 

Dr. Marshall squeezes his hand, giving him even more reassurance. "Harry, if there's something wrong, I'll tell you immediately. But judging by your vitals and your previous appointment, everything seems to be perfect. We'll have a look again and listen to baby's heart once more, okay? I feel confident that everything is going to be perfectly alright."

She turns on the machine next to her, spreading the gel on Harry's stomach after he lays down. Immediately, an image pops up on the screen, moving and wiggling away. Relief floods Harry's system as he watches his baby twitch inside of him. Seconds later, the sound of a heartbeat reverberates through the room, filling his ears. He smiles softly, glancing over at Louis, who's already meeting him with a grin.

"It's still early, but baby is definitely showing off. Would you like to know what you're having?" Dr. Marshall asks them. 

They both shake their heads quickly, the doctor chuckling. Dr. Marshall prints out some more pictures for them, four in total, and cleans Harry up before turning the machine off.

"Well," She says with a sigh and a smile. "Everything looks perfect. Your baby is measuring exactly on point and there are no abnormalities that I can see."

"Thank you," Harry smiles, glancing down at the pictures.

"It's my job," She chuckles, washing her hands. "So, delivery date seems to still be the same; early June, if not late May. Do you have any questions, boys?" She asks, turning back to face them as she sits back down on her stool.

Delivery. Something he hadn't thought much about. He's been too swamped with getting everything he needs and school and work that he'd not even spared a moment to think about that part of it. 

Harry nods, unable to swallow the lump that rises in his throat. "What if something goes wrong during delivery?" 

"Male pregnancies _are_ a bit more complicated," She states. "So that's a very good question. There are certain protocols we follow that differ from a female pregnancy to ensure the delivery is safe for you and the baby. I have confidence that everything will go smoothly for you, Harry." 

"What are the risks?" Louis pipes up, brows furrowed. 

"Well, for Harry, if something goes completely wrong, it could be life or death. But I don't think-"

"Statistically speaking, what chance does he have of that happening?" Louis interrupts, brows furrowed with his mouth set in a line. 

Dr. Marshall clears her throat. "Male pregnancies have an eighty percent success rate."

Harry swallows, taking in all of this information. He hadn't realized that there was such a large chance that something could go wrong, and all of his fears and doubts are screaming through his mind now. 

"What are the risks for the baby?" Louis' questions are coming rapid fire now, a flash of concern clouding his face. 

"The risks are the same as they are for Harry, but usually, the percentage of babies that make it through male pregnancies are higher than..." She trails, and Harry commends her on not flinching in the face of all of Louis' questions. 

"Higher than that of the parent, right?" Louis asks, but it's more of a statement, like something he already knows. "So you're saying, while everything seems okay now, we can't be sure come delivery time. You're saying that there's a twenty percent chance that we'll lose Harry when our child is born. You're saying that there's a possibility that while I'll gain my child, I'll lose Harry in the process." By the time he's done, Harry's got tears welling in his eyes. It's all too much, what Louis' saying, the numbers, the facts. "Is there no way to ensure that faced with that situation, you'll be able to save the both of them?" His voice falters at the end, like he almost can't bare the thought of anything else. 

Harry reaches out automatically and Louis meets him halfway, locking their hands together tight. 

"We'll do everything we can, Louis. I can promise you that."

"But that's the only thing you can promise, isn't it?" It doesn't come out harsh, or rude, just heavy, tinged with a bit of sadness. 

"Why don't we talk more about this next time?" Dr. Marshall suggests, realizing how emotional Harry's getting. She puts a hand on his knee. "You'll be twenty weeks along by then. We'll get more in depth with it, if we need to. Does that sound okay?" 

Harry can only nod, swallowing. Dr. Marshall squeezes his knee before standing up. She says her parting goodbyes, a sad smile on her face as she walks out. Harry belatedly realizes he and Louis are still holding hands, neither of them moving, neither of them speaking. The weight of the room is heavy when Harry stands, finally dropping Louis' hand and missing it's warmth immediately. He grabs his jacket, shrugging it on. They walk out in silence, Louis' hand resting on Harry's lower back until they reach his car. He opens the door for him, shutting it quietly behind him. 

When he slides into his seat, Harry can't stop himself. Tears start streaming as they sit there in the parking lot, a sob breaking through. Louis' on him immediately, stretching over the console and pulling him in for a tight embrace. He rubs a hand over Harry's back, the other resting on the back of his head as Harry burrows himself into Louis' shoulder, crying quietly. 

"I'm sorry," Louis murmurs, his own voice thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry, love." 

"It isn't fair," Harry cries, fingers digging into Louis' arms. 

He feels Louis swallow against him, nodding slightly. "I know. I know it isn't, Hazza. I wish I could say something, anything, to clear all your fears up. No matter what, Harry, I'll be here, okay? Through this whole thing, good or bad, I'll be here for you. Do you trust me?"

Harry pulls back, eyes shining as he stares into Louis' watery blues. Does he trust him? Of course he does. He's given him no reason not to. Louis' stepped up to the plate when he could've easily backed down. He showed up that first appointment and has been making an effort ever since. Hell, he even met Harry's friends without any real prompting. Of course he trusts him. 

"Yeah," He croaks, nodding. 

Louis' eyes search his face, his thumb coming up to swipe a tear from Harry's cheek. "Good. So trust me when I say we can do this. Trust me when I say that at the end of this all, I'll have you _and_ this baby by my side, got it?" 

Harry takes a deep breath, sniffling. "Okay." 

Louis gives a small smile, eyes still slightly watery. "Okay." 

 

-

 

Something changes after that day. Louis texts him more often, even going as far as to call at times he knows Harry's available. He's stopped by the flat a few times, even, much to Niall's delight. It's nearing Christmas, and Harry's on break from school and work, thanks to Babs. She insisted he take Christmas week off, not taking no for an answer, and assuring him she'd pay him anyway. Still, he finds himself studying yet again at the library, hovering over some slightly neater notes he'd taken. He can't focus very well, though. His stomach feels like it's bubbling, but not in an uncomfortable way. It's like there're butterflies dancing in there and it's so damn distracting and slightly distressing that he pulls his phone out, googling whether or not he should be concerned. The first link that pops up is a baby website, dedicated to pregnant parents. He clicks it, his eyes skimming through before a gasps leaves his lips. 

 _Kicking._ His baby is kicking and moving and squirming. 

And he can feel it!

Utter relief washes through him as he realizes he shouldn't be worried, along with complete excitement and joy, almost indescribable. 

He clicks out of the page, pulling up a text thread with Louis. 

_S.O.S. baby kicking! I can feel it!!!_

He bites his lip to control a smile, closing his notebook and figuring he's got time on break to study. This is important. As he steps out of the library, Louis texts him back. 

_Oh my god, Harry ! That's fucking amazing ! Unbelievable !_

There's a string of emojis along with it and Harry lets out a delighted chuckle, another bout of those butterfly kicks fluttering in his tummy. As he's texting back, his phone lights up with a call from Louis. 

"Hello?" He grins, barely able to contain the excitement in his voice. 

"What does it feel like?" Louis asks promptly, breathless. 

Another light laugh escapes Harry before he says, "Like butterflies or popcorn or bubbles. It's amazing, Louis! I've never felt anything like it before." 

" _God_ ," Louis sighs on the other line, smile coloring his tone. "This calls for a celebration. Where are you?" 

Harry glances around, taking in the people bustling by quickly, attempting to escape the harsh cold. None of them are aware of how his life is changing in this very moment. "Just left the Uni library." 

"I'm coming over in an hour." Louis states simply. "Be ready, Styles." 

Harry hangs up, grinning and probably looking like an absolute madman but he doesn't care. When he steps into the flat, it's oddly quiet. There's a note on the fridge, right next to the two ultrasound pictures he's collected, saying that Niall's gone out. He texts him to be careful, letting him know his own plans, and receives a smirking emoji in response. He rolls his eyes, walking to his room to get ready. After thirty minutes and a seemingly endless fight with his hair, he's finished. He lets Louis know and Louis says he's on his way. 

He briefly wonders what his plans are, but decides not to dwell on it too much. This is Louis, after all. They're literally like, mates or summat. Mates that happen to be having a baby together. This is probably like, a bro celebration. Between two bros, who are completely platonic. Probably. 

The bell rings, and he realizes he's been dwelling on it as he rushes to the door as best he can. At seventeen weeks, his bump is growing more each day, and _rushing_ is almost completely vanished from his vocabulary at this point. He more or less just walks at a mildly fast pace, out of breath by the time he gets to his destination. Which, come to think of it, isn't that different from before.

When he pulls the door open, Louis' standing there with a breathtaking smile. 

He pulls Harry in for a hug, momentarily stunning him before he hugs back. 

"Are you ready?" Louis asks when they part, smile never wavering. 

Harry nods, gesturing for his clothing. "Ready as I'll ever be. Couldn't find a shirt that fits, though. So I hope this is okay?" 

Louis' eyes trail his body and Harry feels himself blush. He's probably not checking him out. Probably. 

When Louis finally meets his eye again, he clears his throat, waving a hand towards the door. "You look great. Let's get out of here, yeah?" 

It turns out, Louis actually thought this out. Or, it seemed like it at least. He pulls up to an expensive looking restaurant, opening Harry's door for him and guiding him into the place. The woman seems to recognize him, smiling broadly between the two of them as she seats them. Louis, of course, had requested a booth because he knows Harry has back problems that are worsening over time and it's probably the sweetest thing that's ever happened to Harry. 

His eyes skim the menu, settling on a mouthwatering plate of chicken parm. When the waiter comes around, he orders a water with lemon, smiling when Louis gets the same. And like, that's a pretty common drink, so it's fucking embarrassing when he flushes about it. He feels like a schoolchild around Louis, lately. 

"What are your plans for Christmas, Hazza?" Louis asks from across the table. Harry peers up at him, almost losing his breath. The dim lighting of the restaurant creates a glow to him, eyelashes casting shadows on his cheekbones. He looks otherworldly. 

"Oh, um. I'll be leaving in two days to my mum's for the rest of the week." He answers, attempting to clear his suddenly foggy mind. 

"That'll be nice," Louis smiles. 

Harry nods. "What about you?" 

"Same for me. 'Fraid I'm leaving tomorrow, though." 

"I'm sure you'll have a good time." Harry sends him a grin. 

"There are so many of us, it's pure chaos come holidays." He chuckles, shaking his head. "Not sure how mum does it, honestly." 

"I envy you a little," Harry comments. Louis' brows furrow, waiting for an explanation. "You've got so many siblings, so much more love. I've only got Gemma and she's a complete troll on a good day." 

A cackle escapes Louis' mouth, his attempt to stifle it with his hand proving useless. Harry lets out his own chuckle as he watches him pull it together. 

"Suppose we're in the same boat," Louis giggles. Harry bites his lip. "I've got four of 'em. The estrogen in the house is thick, let me tell you. Can't go anywhere without someone stopping me and asking me what brand of tampons I think are best." 

Harry laughs, nodding. "Gemma still does that. Obviously it's Tampax. I mean, if I were cursed by mother nature, that's the brand I'd stick with."

"Right?" Louis chuckles, raising his brows. "My thoughts exactly!" 

They laugh until their food is served, Harry practically moaning into his plate. Louis orders them dessert once they're finished; one plate of chocolate mousse. He gives Harry the cherry that comes with it, giving Harry the chance to show off and tie the stem in his mouth, delighting Louis. He earns an applause from him, causing him to flush and kick him under the table, which just makes Louis laugh even more. They share the dessert, making light conversation until they're finished. 

On the car ride back, Harry argues with him over music. Louis' only downfall thus far is his taste in music, he thinks as he rifles through his CD's. 

Finally, finally, he finds one. He slides it into the player and skips a few tracks until he finds the one he's looking for. 

"Your music taste is complete shit, y'know." Harry states, his finger hovering over the button to play the track. 

Louis raises a challenging brow. "We've gone over this, Harry. No one likes your dirty hipster dumpster music. Literally no one." 

"Okay, Lou." Harry agrees, smirk on his face. "That's rich coming from the man with an _N*SYNC_   Christmas CD, but okay." 

Louis flushes, reaching over and grabbing for his disks, failing. "Harry, that's not-I have _sisters_ , you know!" 

Harry only hums with a smirk still in place, clicking the play button. "Anyway, here's Wonderwall." 

 

-

 

It wasn't a date. It wasn't. No matter how many times Niall, who knows literally _nothing_ , insisted it was, it wasn't. Niall could suck his dick. 

As of now, Harry's packing up to head to his mum's. There's a knot in his stomach as he thinks about telling her what the doctor had said about his pregnancy. He isn't sure if he should share the news, knowing it'll only scare his family. He hasn't even told the boys yet. He'd talked to Louis about it the previous day via text, but it hadn't been much help. Louis insured him that there was nothing to be worried about, and that he wasn't going to mention it to his mum unless something came up with the baby. It sounded more like he was trying to convince himself, Harry had thought. As he zips his last bag, he wanders out of his room in search of Niall.

He finds him in his own room, packing a bag for his trip to Ireland. 

"You all ready, H?" He asks, throwing random shirts from his closet into his suitcase. 

Harry nods, shoving him aside to fold everything. "You're awful, y'know. Everyone knows it's pants, shirts, underwear and then toiletries." He huffs, dumping the suitcase out to reset everything. 

Niall chuckles from behind him, throwing more of his things on the bed for Harry to take care of. "Only you know that." 

"Whatever," Harry rolls his eyes, but smiles nonetheless. "Anyway, what time does your flight leave?" 

"An hour," Niall replies, falling unceremoniously onto his bed, right on top of a pile of clothes. 

"Niall!" Harry scolds, eyes wide. "You're just now packing? Jesus. I'd like to say I can't believe it, but I'm not much of a liar." He shakes his head, moving onto folding shirts. 

Another laugh escapes Niall's lips and it's hard to stay mad at someone so bright. "Yeah, well. The airport's only, what, forty minutes way? I'm sure I'll make it." 

Harry isn't convinced, but he doesn't argue. Niall's the king of waiting until the last minute, so it wouldn't surprise him if by some chance, he actually did make his flight. For Harry's mum's wedding, Niall had been thirty minutes behind him when he'd left, but somehow got to the venue ten minutes before Harry. He never asked how, not sure he'd even want to know the answer. He's positive it involved multiple traffic violations. 

"Have you spoken to Louis lately?" Niall asks with a smirk. 

Harry nods, ignoring it. "Just last night actually." 

"He made it to his mum's okay?" 

"Yeah, he said the commute was fine. Told me he'd brought ultrasound pictures to share with her." He smiles at the thought. He's pretty sure Louis has been showing the pictures to almost everyone he meets. 

Niall hums, staring at him. "Has he mentioned the date at all?" 

"It wasn't a date." Harry repeats for what feels like the millionth time. 

"Harry," Niall sighs, exasperated. "He took you to dinner and paid for everything. He even let you get _dessert_." 

"We shared the dessert." Harry puts in, not looking up from his current task. 

"Exactly!" Niall throws his hands up. "It was a date!" 

Harry shakes his head, zipping up Niall's suitcase and finally gracing him with some eye contact. He's hoping Niall will drop this at some point. "Niall, two grown adults sharing a meal doesn't mean anything. He was kind enough to pay, yes, but that's just because it's Louis. He's a nice guy." 

"So you're telling me," Niall starts, eyes narrowed. "You think that it was just like, a friendly act? Like a dinner between mates?" 

"Yes, Niall," He sighs. "That's _exactly_ what I'm saying. Now, you need to leave before you really miss your flight. I'm sure Maura wouldn't be too thrilled about that, yeah?" 

Niall stares at him a beat longer with his beady blue eyes before he nods once, hopping from his bed and grabbing his suitcase. "I'll call you when I get there." He says, pulling Harry in for a hug. When he lets go, he drops a hand to Harry's bump and says, "And I'll call _you_ later, too. Don't go messing about while I'm gone, you two." 

Harry grins, shaking his head. "Idiot. I'm not having twins." 

"So you think." Niall says, smirking. He salutes Harry and walks out, the front door banging shut behind him. 

 

**-**

 

He arrives at his mum's late in the evening, Gemma stepping out to help with his bags. She coos over his bump, rubbing her hands all over it and babbling like a madwoman before he even enters the house, insisting she can do that the whole rest of the time he's here. That gets her off, finally and he's able to get in without any further disruptions. His mum hugs him hello and ushers him up the stairs, telling him to put everything away so that they can settle in for dinner. When he comes back down, everyone's already sat down, waiting. 

It goes by fairly quickly, and he's thankful because he's exhausted and his back is aching like mad. By the time they've all finished, his mum shoves a plate of dessert into his face before he can decline, practically spoon feeding him. 

"You've got a growing life inside of you, Harry," She says, watching as he eats as much as he can. He's full, but she insists. "You need all the food you can get. Keeps your energy up, love." 

"Yes, mum." He drones, taking one last bite before dropping his fork and setting a hand on his stomach. If he eats anymore, he'll ruin his mother's beautiful table cloth. 

"So, love, how's Louis?" Anne asks, smiling. 

"He's well. He's visiting his mum's, also, so he's a bit busy at the moment." 

"How'd she end up taking the news?" Comes Robin.

Harry shrugs, pushing his plate away. "Pretty well, I think. Louis said there was minimal yelling and they're all at least semi-okay with it by now. He took some pictures with him to show her. I think he's hoping it'll bring them all around to the idea a little more." 

Anne clucks, shaking her head. "I can't imagine, poor boy. I hope it all turns out. Has he said anything about wanting to meet us?" 

It isn't the first time she's asked about this, and Harry's sure it won't be the last. "I mean, we're both pretty busy with school and work. I'm not sure when we'll be free for a trip up here after this." It's an excuse. He isn't sure why he's so nervous about Louis meeting his family. Maybe it's because they aren't actually together. Or maybe it's because his family can be pretty protective over him sometimes, overbearingly so. Especially Gemme. 

"Well, I'd like to meet him." His sister pipes up, eyes trained on him. "You can't very well keep him from us forever. We're bound to run into each other in the delivery room." 

Harry rolls his eyes. "I know that. Like I said, we're busy. I'll have to check with him. I can't just drag him here without his consent. That's kidnapping. Or mannapping, whatever." 

Anne smiles again, a smile that says that Harry better get on that before she calls up Louis herself and demands to meet him. He supposes it is fair, given that he'd been the one to get him pregnant and all. "Let us know, darling. Anyway, how's baby? You had another appointment, yes? Our phone call was rushed that day. I'd like details, please." 

Gemma nods from beside him, all ears. 

He decides in that moment, staring at the hope in his family's eyes, that he's not going to tell him everything that Dr. Marshall had told he and Louis. He can't cause them any stress, anymore than he already has. Besides, like Louis said, everything seems fine now. It'll be alright, he thinks. 

"It went really well!" He smiles, pushing down the lump in his throat. "Seventeen weeks now. She said everything was measuring on time and that the baby is completely healthy on all accounts." 

"And you? How are you handling it? Everything's okay, right?" Robin asks, his thick brows furrowed. 

Harry swallows, nodding. "Yep! Everything's perfect with both of us." 

They all grin back at him and he knows he's made the right decision by not mentioning anything. 

"That's great, Harry!" Anne chirps, hands clasped near her heart like it's the best news she's heard all week. "Oh, I'm so excited. I forgot to tell you, I've bought a few things." 

Harry tamps down the knives he feels in his gut, smiling back at her. "Mum, you didn't have to." 

"Shush! I wanted to. It's nothing big, not yet anyway, but it's something." She stands from the table, sending a knowing smile to both Gemma and Robin before exiting the room. When she comes back she's got two large bags of what looks like clothing. 

"Mum," Harry laughs, grabbing the bags from her and shaking his head. "Honestly, you didn't have to." 

Anne beams at him, urging him to open them. "That's my grandchild, Harry. Of course I had to." 

When he opens the first bag, a mix of yellows, white and greens is the first thing he sees. Onesies on top of onesies. He smiles at each one as he lays them out on the table, cooing at how little they are. The next back is a bit heavier. He opens it and gasps quietly, pulling out a quilt that's got to be older than him. 

"It was Gemma's when she was a baby, then yours and now it's your baby's." Anne tells him, her eyes glittering. "Nana made it. Stitched it all by hand, every single piece." 

" _Mum_ ," Harry breathes, fingers tracing over the delicate stitchings, the patches fading now but still just as pretty. "Thank you so much." 

Shaking her head, Anne says, "Harry, I love you and that little miracle. I'd do anything for you two." 

He ends up crying, clutching the blanket between himself and his mum as he hugs her tight. The guilt of not telling her is ebbing away at him now, but he just can't bring himself to say it. After more tears than probably necessary, he finally says his goodnights, bags in hand as he makes his way into his room. 

He falls onto the bed, the blanket still in his hand. He traces over the patches again, smiling when he feels the baby kicking. 

His phone vibrates in his pocket and he tugs it out, pulling the blanket over his stomach as he answers the call. 

"Hello?" 

"Hey," Louis greets, smile in his voice. "How was the trip? Not too hard, I hope." 

"It was alright," Harry sighs, playing with some fringe on the blanket. 

"Everything okay?" Concern seeps through Louis' voice. Harry can picture his face; brows furrowed, eyes wide, lip bitten. 

"My mum gave me a quilt." Harry says quietly, shifting on the bed. 

There's a pause, and then, "I'm...sorry?" 

He shakes his head, sighing again. "It was Gemma's and mine and now our baby's." 

Louis hums. "That's sweet, H. Why are you upset about that?" 

"I just," He swallows, willing himself not to get choked up. He hates his hormones right now. "They were all sitting there, staring at me with so much love and adoration and _hope_ and I just, I couldn't tell them. I wanted to, but I couldn't. And then she pulled out the quilt and told me the story behind it and I just felt so awful, y'know? Like I was holding out on them." 

"Harry," Louis sighs, his tone gentle. "It's okay, yeah? Dr. Marshall said that everything looks fine with the two of you. If something happens come delivery time, I'll take it upon myself to tell everyone. I promise I will. But you need to stop stressing about it. I know it's hard, fuck I know it's hard, but we have to stop and breathe, okay? As of now, you're both healthy and okay and that's all we can ask for, yeah?" 

"It's just scary," Harry whispers, closing his eyes. "I'm scared, Lou." 

"I know, babe." Louis murmurs. "Me, too."

After he pulls himself together, he bites his lip. "'M sorry I'm such a mess." 

Louis lets out a chuckle, muffled through the line. "You're not a mess, Harry. You're pregnant. And stressed. You've every right to be the way that you are. Nothing wrong with it at all." 

Harry smiles slightly, burrowing himself into his pillow. "How's your family?"

"They're fine. I showed my mum the pictures and she cried." 

"Good crying or bad crying?" Harry asks. 

"Good crying," Louis replies, smiling again. "Definitely good. She's come around. My sisters are all buzzing about it, too. My step dad'll come around eventually. He'll have to anyway." 

Harry hums, his own smile on his lips. "I'm glad it's turning out okay."

"Me too, Haz." Louis mumbles. "Get some sleep, okay? I'll call you tomorrow evening and fill you in on the shitshow." 

Harry laughs, nodding. "Okay. Goodnight, Louis. Sleep well." 

"You too, H. Goodnight."

 

**-**

 

On Christmas, Harry handles everything surprisingly well. All of his aunts insist on rubbing his belly and talking nonsense to the baby, babbling on about how precious he looks in his knit sweater and how he's positively glowing. He endures picture after picture in front of the tree, smiling in all except the last, where he and Gemma had both decided to stick their tongues out. His mum said that'd be the one they'd mail out to everyone. He recieves a giftcard from his mum and Robin to a baby store he'd mentioned he'd love to go to. He grins when Gemma opens her present from him; a brand new leather jacket like she'd wanted. She tackles him in a hug, cursing him out in his ear but grinning all along. His mum cries at the gift he gives her, a locket with he and Gemma's picture in it, a personal message inscribed inside, along with a framed picture of the most recent ultrasound he'd had.

He sends out a text to all the lads, including Louis, wishing them all a very Merry Christmas and telling them to be safe tonight.  

All in all, it was exhausting. By the time he rolls into bed, his eyes can hardly stay open. 

As he's drifting off, his phone vibrates loudly agains the nightstand next to him and he groans. He reaches for it blindly, swiping to answer without checking who it is. 

"Harry!" Louis' voice comes through the speaker, loud and giggly. "Happy Christmas, Harry!" 

Harry grins, eyes still shut. "Merry Christmas, Lou. Are you drunk?" 

Louis giggles and there's some shuffling before he says, "It was my birthday yesterday, Hazza. Why didn't you call?" Harry can practically hear the frown in his voice, despite his slurred words. "'M not that drunk, by the way. Just a bit, only had three shots. Just excited to talk to you, Harry!" 

"I'm sorry, Lou. I didn't know it was your birthday. Did you have a good birthday and Christmas?" 

Louis sighs through the line. "Yeah, 'spose so. Wish you could'a been here, Haz. Miss your face." 

Louis is drunk, or in the least bit, buzzed. So it shouldn't excite Harry as much as it does when he says this. 

"Yeah?" He asks, unable to help the grin on his lips that he bites down on. 

Louis hums. "Very, very much, Hazza." 

"I miss you too, Lou." Harry says honestly, wondering if Louis will remember this when he wakes up. 

"Miss your bum, too." Louis mumbles, more shifting noises coming through. 

Harry lets out a small laugh. "Is that so?" 

"Yeah," Louis sighs forlornly. "'S a nice bum, H. Very cute, perky, nice."

"Thank you," Harry smiles, shaking his head. "You've a nice bum, too, Louis." 

"Mm," Louis sighs again. "Yours is better. Wish I could remember." 

Something spikes in Harry's stomach, warm and fiery. He knows this is probably just the alcohol in Louis' system talking, but it still does something to him. 

"Me too," He replies quietly, unsure. 

"Bet it was good, Hazza," Louis murmurs, voice taking a different tone, something akin to sultry. "Bet it was so good. Bet you were perfect for me, hm?" 

" _Louis_ ," He breathes, biting his lip. He isn't sure where this is going or what Louis' doing and he isn't sure he has the willpower to stop it, either. His pants are getting tighter, arousal already swirling in his stomach. It's been four months since he's been with anyone but his hand, so he doesn't suppose he could help it if he tried. 

"You think it was good, H?" Louis asks, ignoring him. "Think you were wrapped around me so tight, hanging on? Moaning my name for everyone to hear? You left marks, y'know. All over my back. Hottest thing ever, Harry."

Unable to help himself, he lets out a small whimper, but Louis hears it, quiet as it is. 

"Are you picturing it, Harry?" He asks, voice low. "Or are you thinking about riding me? Being so good for me, taking it however you want. You'd have bruises on your hips, I bet. Maybe you'd start out slow, riding me just like you want. And then, when you get too tired, you'd let me take over, fucking up into you like you need, hard and fast, make you scream." 

His cock is now fully hard, his hand wrapped around it. It doesn't feel wrong, Louis' voice coming in more clear now. He's not slurring anymore, and he almost sounds like normal, aside from the low tone. Harry wonders if he was every really drunk to begin with. 

Before he can come up with a reply, Louis' voice cuts in. "Is that what you want, Harry? Want me to fuck you again, make you remember?" 

Harry whines, his hand moving over his cock, pants pushed down to his ankles. "Yeah, Lou. _Please_." 

Louis hums, sounds of him getting himself off coming through the speaker. "Yeah? Want me to clean you up after? Lick you out nice and slow, make you beg for more until you're sobbing into the pillows? Get you off twice with my fingers and tongue alone? Would you like that?"

"Fuck," Harry whimpers, working his hand faster. " _Louis_ , please."

"Sound so good, Harry," Louis groans, slick sounds becoming louder. "Fuck, bet you'd take me so good, baby. So tight and warm around me, perfect. Perfect for me." 

" _Yes_ ," Harry moans, heat coiling in his belly. "Perfect for you, Lou. So good, just for you." 

"Fuck, Harry," Louis lets out, voice growing louder. " _Fuck_ , you're so sweet. So pretty with my baby, so fucking gorgeous." 

Harry cries out, come splattering his naked stomach as he works himself through it. He hears Louis chanting his name, his own release hitting him. After he comes down from his haze, he's panting. It's by far the best orgasm he's had in a long while. He hears Louis letting out heavy breaths through the line, a small laugh coming through. 

"Fuck," He breathes out. "That was intense." 

Harry sighs, smiling as he cleans up his mess. "Yeah. Thanks for that." 

Louis chuckles again. It's clear and light, like bells tinkling. "Thank _you_."

After a moment of just breathing, listening, Harry finally says, "You should get some sleep, Lou." 

"Mm," Louis replies, yawning. "Guess so. You too, H." 

"I will," Harry insists, throwing his dirty cloth onto the floor. "Goodnight." 

"Night, Haz. Sweet dreams." 

 

**-**

 

As Harry's break comes to an end, he realizes two things. One, his mum and sister are absolute nutters when left in a baby store. He's got loads of bags he's packing up in his car, most of them taking up his whole boot and back seat. Two, Louis doesn't remember. They don't talk about it the next day when he calls. And they haven't talked about it still, three days later. It's kind of a blow to his system, realizing this, but he figures it best. It was one of the best wanks he's had in present years, so. No regrets there. 

He piles into his car, baby bags and all,and sets off for his long trip home. He'll have the flat to himself for a few days until Niall gets home, and he plans to make the best of it. And by that, he's going to lay around in only his dressing gown eating tubs of ice cream and watching British Bakeoff while he ignores any and all responsibilities. 

He texts everyone to let them all know he's made it home safely and trudges inside, figuring he can get his luggage tomorrow. He toes off his shoes and strips as he makes his way down the hall to the bathroom, turning the water on and stepping inside of the warm shower. 

He tries not to let his thoughts run rampant as he washes his hair. But, what does it all mean? The things Louis had said, the way he'd said them. There had to be more than just lust behind those words. He'd even said he missed Harry. That had to mean something. 

It all felt more like a promise, all those filthy things he'd murmured in Harry's ear. It felt like something he planned to follow through on, every last bit of it. 

His cock gives a twitch and he curses, working his hand down to it. 

To say he's been extremely horny lately would be an understatement. His vibrator and his hand have become very familiar in the last week or so. He remembers Liam mentioning that he'd read that this was a symptom in the second trimester, and he'd blown it off until late. His appetite for sex is almost insatiable and it's becoming a very real problem. And with Louis in the picture, saying those things through the phone, he can't help himself. Fucking Louis and his tan skin and crystal clear eyes and his more than platonic approach to everything. He's becoming increasingly frustrated as the days go by. Especially considering that just days ago, Louis was not-so-platonic, telling Harry just how he'd like to fuck him into the mattress. 

He groans, replaying everything Louis had said and the sounds he'd made, the way his name rolled off his tongue. 

He comes with Louis' name on his lips, eyes clenched shut and knuckles white against the wall holding himself up. 

It's not a big deal.

It's _not._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was that an abrupt ending? I feel like it was. Sorry. I've got loads more to write to Part Three, so I promise it's not a random thing. There is meaning behind it. "Everything is not what it seems, Lawrence."
> 
> Please let me know what you thought! Kudos, comments and rants are appreciated! Thanks for taking the time out to read it and deal with me, the Queen of Trash. (':

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [tumblr!](https://hansolostyles.tumblr.com/)


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